


Deuces Are Wild

by LamiaHypnosia



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, Non-Sexual Intimacy, POV Canon Character, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2020-10-09 04:04:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20490185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamiaHypnosia/pseuds/LamiaHypnosia
Summary: Robert Joseph MacCready came to the Commonwealth with a purpose. That purpose did not include being hired by a Brotherhood of Steel initiate to clear her name of trumped up charges but here we are.A tale of exploration -both of one’s self and the wasteland- a long winding road, good company, and an Aerosmith mix holotape.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story could be read as a stand alone or be seen as a spin off to the Outside The Fire series. While MacCready is in OTF he's not in it much- I didn't want to just shoehorn him in but I still wanted to write something with him in it. So he gets a story all to himself.

With a sense of dread he placed his outstretched hand on the door pushing it open. In spite of two centuries of decay the door only barely creaked on its hinges but it was the only sound in the whole building. MacCready wasn’t a scavver, or so he reminded himself because here he was picking through a pile of garbage. He sighed. No sense acting like some work was beneath him. The caps were good.These old pre war buildings gave him the creeps, though. Nasty things lived in the dark. Roaches the size of dogs, raiders blazed on chems pissing themselves with excitement for the moment to kill you and take everything you had. And ghouls. Feral ghouls. Nasty shambling zombies. But zombie was a word from those old -what did you call them- motion pictures, and comic books. But zombies are dead people raised back to life by some evil magic and they shambled to snack on human brains and ferals- well MacCready could no longer think of them as irradiated humans. The whimsical characters of Grognak might think radiation was a kind of evil magic. And they wouldn’t be wrong. 

The room was empty though, only motes of dust greeted him in the dappled sunshine that shone in through where chunks of wall had been crumbled not by time but some kind of impact. Raiders or super mutants playing with grenades most likely. Then the stench reached his nostrils. Not so much reached as assaulted, bored deep and stuck like glue. It was some horrible combination of mildew, the stench of decay where an animal had gotten stuck in an air duct or something and some humans had been using one of the corners of the room as a toilet.

Well, there was nothing to do about it. Drawing his scarf over his nose helped a little. That was when he heard it. Someone was moving around inside, shuffling papers. His finger had been on the trigger guard of his sniper rifle but now it was on the trigger. Scavengers of the human variety did not like sharing, either. MacCready didn’t blame them but they didn’t have to be so rude. Most of them were cowards who would run at the first whiff of danger like radstags. Someone fancying himself a gunfighter would always try then the others hoping to score points of badassery would join the fray and like as not end up wasting much of their ammo. 

Cautiously he peered around the corner, poised to fire at any moment. It was a person, alright. Small, though the telltale proportions and sloping shoulders indicated this was not a child. A woman, then. Likely a woman or else MacCready had finally met a man smaller than him. She -if a she-was dressed in something more akin to a uniform than scavver rags and piecemeal armor. Black pants with no holes, boots that matched and a tactical vest over a dark blue sweater. Most of her head was shaved but for a ponytail and there was a small gash above her left ear where blood had saturated the ink black fuzz.. He heard the whisper of paper as she moved it into the light in a gloved hand, squinted at it then put it back where she found it making an indignant noise. 

Then she looked right at him.

MacCready had slithered back around the corner by now. He strained trying to hear footsteps, a gun being picked up, anything. He strained and strained, nobody was that unearthly quiet. He began to back out the way he came, head on a swivel watching all corners. She’d seen him. She must have. 

“There’s nothing here.”  
She wasn’t armed, just stood there with her thumbs under her backpack straps. He peered at her with suspicion not bothering to lower his gun trying not to show that she’d taken him by surprise. He hadn’t come to chat. She didn’t seem afraid or threatened. Just as well. MacCready wasn’t above shooting first and asking questions later but the uniform gave him pause. She clearly wasn’t some junk dealer who wouldn’t be missed she was part of something- a mercenary group, maybe. Shooting people in uniforms led to investigations, which led to bounties which would be a danger to his continued breathing. 

“Well maybe I’m just gonna have a look for myself.” He said, still not relaxing his stance.

“If there’s tech here it’s mine.” She said with a finality that brooked no argument. 

He gave her a hard stare but she just met his gaze as dull and placid as a grazing brahmin. MacCready lowered his rifle.“We’ll see about that.”

“Do whatever you like. But keep your voice down you don’t want to wake the mother.”

“The mother of what?”

Turning her head she looked over her shoulder then back at him. “The deathclaw.”

MacCready’s stomach dropped somewhere around the vicinity of his kneecap. He’d walked into a death trap! Gifford you son of a bitch, if you knew about this and didn’t tell me I’m going to put several new holes in you. 

“There’s a nest.” She said as she rubbed at the grime on her face leaving a fist sized clean spot. “I thought about taking an egg back with me.”

The floorboards above them creaked. Something moved. It sniffed, a little at first then a lot. The woman grabbed MacCready’s hand and tugged him into a room in the adjacent hallway. He let himself be dragged and was met with silent pleading gestures for silence. The steps grew louder and the pair peeked through a hole in the door. Mama deathclaw was ten feet of muscle and murder, her namesakes at her sides. Something white was in her hand and she brought it to her mouth. Then without even a bottoms up she swallowed it.

Well that was that.

The dumb beast ate the transmitter he was looking for. MacCready mentally kicked himself. This fetch quest was a total bust. There was no way he could take down mama deathclaw on his own. Though he could offer the smelly little woman next to him and run for it. While he was weighing the options on how to get the hell out of here and more importantly how to mitigate his loss MacCready realized the deathclaw was bobbing her head up and down in their direction. She must have smelled them. Their sense of smell was good but their eyesight was poor or so someone had told him long ago. But that might have been the deathclaws in DC, this big girl was different looking than her southern cousins. He’d heard horror stories from a man who had once been out west talking about the Master, some twisted mutant creating super mutants and other abominations.

“It’s true.” The old man had whispered pulling his cloak about himself. “There was a vault dweller over a hundred years ago, my daddy told me, and his daddy told him and so on. There were super mutants who served the Master, he was gonna turn everyone into green rad freaks like them!”

MacCready had laughed too but there was something that told him that what the old man had said was true. At least partly. 

“That’s just a damn story.” Countered one of the caravan workers, a blonde woman with a hoarse voice rough from a throat injury and heavy smoking, hair over one eye to cover a scar which was not nearly as hideous as she thought. 

The old man lowered his voice with mysterious importance. “It’s true, missy. And they made deathclaws even nastier than they already were.”

The scarred blonde humored him with a smile. “What happened to the Master?”

“Nobody knows.” The old man said quietly. “They say the vault dweller defeated him but his creations still roam the wastes.”

The others chuckled again but not MacCready. It’s just a damn story, he argued with his conscience but he’d seen enough in his short life to have any incredulity left. 

MacCready suddenly realized his shirt was soaked through. The woman was splattering some vile smelling liquid on him. He almost retched. He stared at her angrily but she put a finger to her lips and her message was clear: be silent and still.

He did his best statue impression.

The deathclaw lost interest and moved on.

When the thudding steps died away he started back trying to keep his tread light, going as fast as he dared. She hurried after him calling in a hoarse whisper. “Wait!”

MacCready halted, somewhat annoyed. “What?”

“Don’t go that way!”

“What?” He repeated irritably. “That’s the way out.”

“Don’t go that way!” she insisted. “Follow me.”

“No thanks.”

Without a word she pushed open a closet beside him. Nestled within a pile of bones and tattered cloth were large grey eggs. Deathclaw eggs. “Be sure to leave your scent so the mother can track you. “ She said in a low voice.

MacCready gulped. “Lead the way.”  
He followed his new guide down the passage from which she’d come, a network of utility rooms and dug out passages likely made by the survivors of the Great War. It was easy to match her pace but even the lightest step made a noise, and they both halted at every sound. Water dripping, the groan of the foundation and walls shifting with the weight of time. MacCready knew the stench of mirelurk along with their scuttling steps. She’d avoided every single one. If we make it out of here I’ll have to ask her for sneaking lessons. 

Blessed sunshine and fresh air. Except for the ancient sewage. “Should have smashed the eggs before we left.” MacCready said as they ascended the steep hill that hugged the sides of the drain pipe.

His companion squinted at him with slanting eyes that now in the bright of day he realized were a peculiar shade of brown, almost yellow. “Stay away from their nests and deathclaws will never bother you.”

“Yeah well the circle of life could have just ended there.” Silently though he was cursing himself. Those eggs were worth a fortune. He then remembered his reeking coat. “What did you put on me?”

“Just some stuff to eliminate your scent.” She said. 

Great. Now he’d stink like that place forever. “What stuff?”

A tendril of hair had worked its way free from her ponytail and she went cross eyed to stare at it. “Mostly viscera and water.” 

MacCready gagged. 

“If they think you’re already dead they lose interest. Unless they’re hungry.”

“Well you’ll understand if I don’t thank you for that.” Tugging down his duster there were clots of old blood and bits of bone on the front. 

“It’ll wash out.”

“But hey, thanks for showing me the way out. Looks like we both got screwed.”

But she was busily staring up at the sky. “No pick up? Guess I’ll hoof it.”

His hands were still shaking as he fumbled for his cigarettes. He could definitely use one after that little encounter. “Pick up from who?”

She mumbled distractedly “Brotherhood.”

MacCready stopped. “Brotherhood as in...of Steel?”

An absent ‘uh huh’ was her only reply. So his hunch was correct and yet so far off. What were the Brotherhood of Steel doing in the Commonwealth? Whatever it is it can’t be good. The Brotherhood of Steel collected technology and collect usually meant confiscated. Bastards thought they owned the world. They were at least more decent than the Gunners, who fanatically threw their lives away to make sure a mission was completed.

“Brotherhood. Sheesh.”  
Climbing the hill he set his path back to Goodneighbor.

“Take care!” She called back enthusiastically. Turning around he lifted an arm in a halfhearted wave. Sure he was out of caps and she was from that army of fanatics but there was no need to be rude. He was heading east but he saw her head north- he made a mental note to avoid the north.


	2. Chapter 2

Goodneighbor was abuzz with the arrival of the Brotherhood airship by the time MacCready stumbled past its gate. They’d arrived in force but for what purpose, nobody could be certain. It was refreshing to hear something other than rumors about drug deals gone bad, and worse, about the damn Institute. MacCready slumped onto a bar stool. Maybe they’ll kill each other. 

Gifford was all apologies. His supposedly reliable source of info mentioned mirelurks but neglected the deathclaw. MacCready told him that source better be deathclaw scat by now or he would be. The ghoul surrendered half the promised caps so it wasn’t a total loss. 

“And there was someone else already there.” MacCready added as he pawed at the caps making certain every last one was accounted for.

“Who?” Gifford inquired with that nigh unendurable rasping croak.

“Someone with the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Gifford leaned back in his seat. “Oh. Our prospects aren’t lookin’ so good.”

“No, not really.” MacCready said sourly packing up the last bottle cap. 

Rising from his seat Gifford held out his hands. “Look I said I was sorry and I’ll make it up to you. I’m thinking maybe we can grease a few palms with Marowski’s boys.”

MacCready put his feet on the desk and lit a cigarette, waving out the flame of the match as he watched the ghoul with indifference. “Marowski? The chem dealer.”

“It’s steady work.” Gifford poured himself a bourbon offering the bottle to his associate who declined with a waved hand. “His lab in Southie is well protected so likely we’d be guarding the goods.”

MacCready blew smoke toward the ceiling. “What is this ‘we’ about?”

“I’m tryin’ to get you some connections here, man.”

Not even bothering to remove the Grey Tortoise Light from his lips MacCready countered “You give me false info and screw me over then you suggest I go stick out my neck for a bunch of chem pushers. Do I look like I want to get gutted by strung out Raiders?”

Gifford choked on his bourbon in his haste to interrupt. “Okay okay never mind. You don’t have to keep on bellyachin’ about it. Anyway just sit tight for now I should have something for you in a day or so.”

“I’ll take my chances elsewhere.” MacCready pushed himself out of his seat.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, you know!” Gifford chuckled.

Of course the ghoul would mock his misfortune. An insult was on his tongue but MacCready held it. The ghoul knew he had a face like the wrath of Almighty God. No sense in telling him what was true. It was childish but as he left the room MacCready indulged himself in giving the ghoul the finger.

Gifford laughed and shook his head. “What an asshole.”Grinning he poured himself another drink. “What an asshole.”

The talk around Goodneighbor returned to normal. By then the caps Gifford gave MacCready were nearly spent. A few days, my ass, he thought sullenly stuffing the cigarette butt down the empty beer bottle. He was wasting away at the Third Rail again and unless Gifford or Daisy had any bright ideas he might have to see about that Marowski job, and he did not want to have to see about that Marowski job.

“Nuka Cola?” Whitechapel Charlie mocked in a high pitched voice in imitation of a woman’s. “‘Less ya want rum for that cola why don’tcha go home and pay with your dolls?”

“My caps are good.” said a small green hooded individual, pointing a duct tape patched mittened finger at him. 

“Fine, fine.” The Mister Handy fished under the counter with his claw hand and produced a cola, snapping off the cap. “Seventeen caps.”

She paid and sat down beside MacCready with a huff. “What a ripoff.” Pausing she turned her head towards him, though he could only see her mouth and chin. “Oh hey.”

MacCready was nonplussed. “Have we met?”

“Yep.”

Her feet dangled far from the floor and she swung them like a child. Pushing back her hood she said “This is a nice place. I like the singer.”

At least she didn’t smell. “So you’re a mercenary, right? I need to hire you.”

The words were music to his ears. “Come on, let's go to the VIP room.”

Taking their drinks they passed a few people talking, a couple necking on the couch and one man throwing up last week’s dinner into a bucket. 

“So no rum in that cola.” MacCready said stepping out of the splash zone when the poor guy missed the bucket. 

“I’m not a big drinker. If I drank I’d be throwing up more than that guy.” 

“I don’t think anyone can throw up more than that guy.”

Once reconvened in the VIP lounge MacCready sat down on the couch and she sat beside him.

“So the price is two hundred fifty caps, non negotiable.”

“Oh.” she said setting a tin of caps on the couch between them.

“Oh, what?”

“I expected it to be more. Never hired anyone before.”

He laughed.

“So you’re just taking my caps without even knowing what I want you to do?” She asked.

“Lady, I’m a mercenary. I don’t exactly have standards.”

“Everybody’s got standards. “ She turned to him. “First thing I want you to do is to not say anything about my affiliation.”

He nodded and she continued. “I’m serious. It could be big trouble for both of us. The gist of it is this- somebody is pinning their crimes on me. Tomorrow there’s a settlement I want to visit and ask some questions. We’ll discuss it on the way.”

“So it’s personal business. I’m not about to tangle with you-know-who.”

She hummed absently. “Definitely not. And call me Zelling.”

“MacCready.”

Rising she picked up her empty cola bottle. “Meet me outside the gate at daybreak. I’m going back to the hotel.”


	3. Chapter 3

Grey rain swollen clouds hung over Goodneighbor the next morning. Zelling was already at the gate. 

“Got everything you need?” She asked.

“Yep, let’s move.”

They picked through the ruins heading west. “You know Oberland Station? There’s a couple farmers who settled there. The Brotherhood sometimes hits it up for food. Normally logistics is responsible for procurement of supplies but they’re stretched too thin. They’re too busy guarding what we do have from raiders.”

Classic Brotherhood, MacCready thought. They were still an unknown entity here then flying in at full capacity they would not waste time doing nice things like setting up proper trade.  
That could take weeks or months. Whoever this new Elder was, foresight wasn’t one of his strong suits. Not everyone is looking to them as saviors. They were just regular people trying to get by not help fight a war. Well someone has to stand up to the Institute, Zelling argued.  
MacCready never troubled himself with any of that. 

“Of course not.” Zelling said, poised to leap down from a heap of rubble.”Everything is someone else’s problem.”

The sight of tatos growing in the sun made MacCready’s heart ache for home. He wondered if he could manage a letter back to DC to check on everyone but letters from home were always novels, and the longer he read the more it eroded his resolve. His son was safer there. Safe in the care of Lucy’s friends. Lucy...she’d be furious if she knew what he was doing. Victoria said as much. Victoria was an ex barkeep, deceptively frail but with a tongue like a guillotine and a mean right hook. She and her husband Teddy, a taciturn man with a talent for handyman work lived in a refurbished cottage a mile away from MacCready’s farm. Early in their courtship he and Lucy had their first argument, he’d said...something...and the next time he saw Victoria she slugged him. They laughed about it later, but it didn’t feel funny at the time.

Besides, neither Victoria nor Teddy nor Duncan for that matter could read. A passing trader might help but they seldom slowed down for a couple of illiterate wastelanders. The two women at Oberland greeted them coolly but the guns at their sides made the underlying message clear- ‘try anything and your life is in your hands.’  
Disinterested in the goings on MacCready opted to watch the road while Zelling conducted her business, smoking idly. The afternoon wasn’t particularly hot, not enough to cast the shimmers across the pavement but it took his scope to confirm his suspicions. Raiders. Three of them. 

“Trouble, boss.”

Zelling and the two girls glanced toward him. The younger shouldered past MacCready up to the top of the tower then leaned out from the stairs holding a pair of binoculars to her eyes. “Shit. Steph, it’s those assholes again. Let me get-”

“No, Jeannie. Get upstairs and stay put.” Jeannie huffed but did as she was told. Steph laid her rifle across her shoulders. “These guys better not be with you.”

“With us? No way.” Zelling shook her head. 

“Say the word and they’re dead.” MacCready said.

“No.”

“No? Are you serious?”

“I want to ask them something.”

Steph didn’t seem concerned. “You wanna start the festivities I’ll cover you.” She cut a glance to Zelling. “I seriously doubt they know where your missing knight is.”

Not wanting to see what the Raiders had in store for them MacCready set his sights on them. Three men, skinny but fit. Track marks galore. One man seemed to be leading the others and his arms were bigger around than MacCready’s legs. On one hand he wore a power fist, an ugly yellow contraption maniacs used to punch things to death.

“That’s close enough.” Steph said. The three men stopped.

The big guy folded his arms. He was very tan and his giant meaty arms made MacCready think about brahmin steak and suddenly he remembered he was hungry. “We had a deal, Steph. It’s been a week. Time to pay up.”

“Hey assholes.” Zelling pointed at them. “You take your circle jerk elsewhere, I’m talking to these ladies.”

“Who the fuck are you?” grinned Mr. Meat Arms. His gaze swept over her in a way that made MacCready feel unclean. To his buddy Meat Arms muttered. “Is that the ugliest chick you ever saw? I think this is the ugliest chick I ever saw.”

That was a low blow. But Zelling was unruffled. “Do you expect me to fly into a rage at that? But since your eyes work maybe you can deduce what this means.” She leveled a laser rifle at them. “I take oath that I’m faster than any of you junkies with your pipe pistols. If you so much as twitch, I will fire. So let’s talk.”

One of the men went for his gun but he was too slow. A bullet courtesy of MacCready’s sniper rifle took him down. Mr. Meat Arms froze, then realizing he had blood and bits of brain and skull on his person let out a yell. He drove the power fist toward Zelling but lead in too long- she saw him coming a mile away and stepped aside as casually as one might to not bump into someone walking down the street. The second time she was not fast enough, the blow was hard enough to make MacCready wince in sympathy. Yet he couldn’t get a clear shot. Steph grappled with the other man and kneed him in the groin- he let out a falsetto yelp and dropped the knife. Jeannie rushed in and picked it up,holding it to his crotch.  
“One false move and I cut it off!” she said with evil glee.

Twisting the knife out of her hands so hard he surely broke her wrist the raider cut and run. “Man, fuck this!”  
Zelling hadn’t been face down in the dirt from that blow somehow and danced away from Meat Arms, took Steph by the elbow and jerked her forward. 

Meat Arms glanced over at his dead associate then in the wake of the one that fled. “Well that doesn’t matter. You done?”

“Say!” Zelling said cheerfully. “Can you count to three?”

The raider stared at her nonplussed. She held up something tiny that made Meat Arms say “Oh shit.”

Without even thinking MacCready grabbed Jeannie by the shoulders and pushing her in front of him shouted “Take cover!”  
Zelling barked a laugh and shoved Steph to run. They barely made it over the hill, the four of them tumbling over the side and crashing into a human pile up just as the grenade exploded.

Steph was still holding her hands over her ears when Zelling moved away from shielding her. She didn’t want to open her eyes and take in the gory spectacle. But there it was, just a pair of boots with stumps of bone atop the scorched ground. The rest of him must have blown clear. She laughed. MacCready stared at her. 

They didn’t have much but Steph and Jeannie agreed that a little hospitality was warranted. Zelling cleaned up her own mess before sitting by the fire with the others. She studied the grenade pin. 

“You do know that you’re completely insane, right?” MacCready asked her. She only smiled and offered him a Nuka Cola.


	4. Chapter 4

Before they set off Steph loaded them up with water, food and what caps they could spare so it wasn’t too bad of a deal. MacCready could get used to this. It beat sitting around Goodneighbor with his thumb up his ass. And so it went- a tiny settlement at the ass end of nowhere, a scuffle or two and long stretches of nothing, rain or shine. They took shelter at nightfall before it got too dark to see or if the rainfall was too heavy. She never barked orders at him, never treated him any differently. Most importantly she didn’t foist her problems on him or blather on to fill the silence with awkward small talk. That was a blessing early on but as the days turned into weeks MacCready if he’d made some error, some blunder that made her not want to speak to him in any other way except business.

He was getting paid, that was the important thing. But he knew nothing about his employer. He reasoned that if he started the dialogue -spoke of himself- she might speak of herself. There was something that made him uncomfortable about people who were exceedingly withdrawn and private, something MacCready instinctively did not like. But he started the process anyway. He spoke of his trip from DC, of Little Lamplight. Zelling was interested in that, at least. 

“I wish I could have lived there.” She said. “My mom died when I was ten and she never talked about my dad.”

“Well, at least you had her for a little while. I never knew my parents.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

MacCready shrugged irritably “Doesn’t matter. I got along fine without them.” Then he realized how bitter he must have sounded. But it was true. The other children in Little Lamplight did their best to look out for one another. An adult would just want things done their way, a way that benefited them and no one else. The hardest truth he learned upon leaving Little Lamplight was the schemes that went on behind smiling faces. How many of the former Lamplighters had fallen for these deceptions. He heard of former residents joining raider gangs, becoming prostitutes and all manner of terrible things to get by. Or they became a mercenary and lied to their wife about it.

“So they probably died.” Zelling said. MacCready sighed. 

“Most likely. I have no idea. Either that or they abandoned me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe any parent would willingly abandon their child. Especially not with the way things are.”

MacCready tried again to change the subject. His parents gave him a name and that was it. If they did just die then that was only a tragedy. He never liked to think they just abandoned him. It was the case of lots of children at Little Lamplight- some sought better circumstances. Some left chem addict parents, some escaped slavery. Others were turned out because the parents thought they could find someone else who could better provide for them. He recalled one of the girls mentioning she would awaken to her mother’s boyfriend watching her and her mother threw her out saying she was ‘stealing’ him from her. Then as now he wished he knew that piece of shit’s name so he could put a bullet in him. But he remembered her face clear as day. She’d left for Big Town not long after he’d arrived. Wonder what happened to her.

“There were other kids,” MacCready said shielding his eyes from the glare of the noonday sun. “We all had our roles. One kid cooked, another was a doctor, even had a teacher. Some of them didn’t know how to read.”

Zelling smiled at this. “Did you know how to read?”  
She wasn’t teasing, it was a legitimate question. Justifiable, too. A lot of settlers didn’t put much stock in education. Some learned and taught their children, others were lucky to be born in a place with a school.

“Not really.” He shrugged, pausing to ensure someone or something hadn’t taken the moment of distraction to set up an ambush. “ I could write my name, that was it. I liked to look at comic books and another kid, Joseph, said I’d enjoy them better if I knew everything that was going on so he taught me.”

Zelling nodded. “My grandpa taught me. Well he wasn’t really my grandpa, he just took care of me. I wrote notes for him when his arthritis was too bad to do it himself.”

The wall was down then. Dead parents, check. Sadly more common than one would think. Still, she was one of the braver children who had fended for herself. A number of things began to click into place. No wonder Zelling was quiet and awkward enough to be an unintentional bore, terrible at small talk and seldom looking at him in the eye. She was never around other people much apart from the old lone drifter who had taken care of her.  
But when a service elevator in the ruined building where they took shelter one night she wasn’t worried and proved he had taught her much more than that.

MacCready had mashed the buttons until his fingers were sore, swearing a blue streak then stopping himself. Oh well. Duncan would understand his duress. The stairs had collapsed a long time ago so that wasn’t even an option. He sat down on the floor. The single light in the room barely cast any shadows in its yellow glow but he could still see Zelling at the terminal which ostensibly controlled the power using the faithful hunt and peck method. 

“Well if this little guy still has power then the issue is the elevator car itself.” She concluded then sat down across from him. “I can’t do anything about it until daylight anyway so we might as well get some sleep. Then I can rig the elevator car or we can try to smash a wall.”

The upside was that while they were trapped that barred any intruders from coming across from them while they were sleeping. It had been difficult sleeping alone these past two years between sleeping with one eye open and plain loneliness. Anything was better than trying to muffle the rumbling breaths of an old caravaneer with a loud snore. Even the pack brahmin looked sleep deprived. 

He awoke to music. Very loud rock music. Not that he minded, the jazz on the radio all the time was dull but MacCready didn’t appreciate being bolted awake. Zelling slapped the terminal erratically before finding the button to turn it off. “Sorry!” She hissed. 

Dragging himself to a sitting position MacCready looked at her, rubbing an eye with his knuckles. His question “Did you fix it yet?” was also a yawn.

“No. I need your help to fix it.” She said.

Putting his hat on MacCready rose. “Okay.”

He found himself in the elevator car with the unsettling feeling that it would plummet to the basement or close permanently and he would truly be trapped. But after unburdening herself of her tactical vest to both be lighter and able to fit in the hatch Zelling asked MacCready to lift her. A taller or even a stronger person would be better suited to this task but sadly she was stuck with him. Lacing his fingers together Zelling stepped into his hands and he strained to lift her until she caught the ledge, pulling herself up as he tried to push her the rest of the way up. They were both too short for this. All he could do now was pass her items she wanted. A light first and foremost and they had to settle for his flip lighter. Duct tape, a claw hammer and a can of potato crisps ‘I’m hungry and almost done’. Then the call buttons lit back up. Sweat beaded her face and neck by the time she climbed back down.

“Alright, let’s go.”

MacCready gaped at her. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Grandpa taught me. He fixed things and sold them. I watched for a while then he saw my interest and showed me how to do it. It saved his sanity a few times- when I got bored, he’d give me a little project.”

And not for the first or the last time, she led him out of darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

On down the road she played the tape again on a beat up Pip-Boy. It was that rock music. It was jazzy, but blues-y. By the third song MacCready had to ask. 

“Who are these guys?” he pointed at the wrist mounted device.

Turning around she walked backwards while she spoke. “I couldn’t make out much info. Some 21st century band I think Ah Eh Ro...smith?” 

He smiled. “You’d better watch where you’re going.”

As though on cue she stumbled but regained her balance before heeding his advice and walking correctly. He laughed quietly, his shoulders shaking. “If you hadn’t guessed from the direction we’re going, we're going to Diamond City. I’m going to ask the DJ there if he knows anything about this tape.”

Hurrying his steps he matched her pace, walking side by side rather than a few paces behind. “What tape?”

“The arrow-whatchallit...tape- the music!”

A visit to the largest settlement in the Commonwealth might be a nice change of pace. On the other hand the guards weren’t too thrilled to see them. MacCready paid no heed to their reproachful comments to keep his gun away, only scoffing. But the open threats to throw Zelling feet over shoulders into lockup was not lost on them.

“What’s their problem?” He muttered to her around an unlit cigarette. “They’re not fond of your tin can wearing friends?”

She made no reply but he soon found out. At every store Zelling was to remain with her hands where they could be seen at all times. Pickpocket, eh? Well MacCready couldn’t fault someone for that. He had put his small size to use before nicking a few caps here, a box of Blamco Mac and Cheese there. It wasn’t a malicious thing. Times just got lean. He didn’t resort to it anymore, it was bad for business. Watching a few passersby made him wonder if he even had quick fingers anymore. 

How a thief got into the ranks of the prestigious Brotherhood of Steel was a mystery to MacCready. This line of thought dredged up an old memory, a recollection ten years past where he had looked down upon a mungo in a blue jumpsuit. Mungo. That was what the children of Little Lamplight called adults. That mungo would become the famous Vault Dweller, and he’d fought alongside the Brotherhood before disappearing into legend. What madness had made him leave the safety of Vault 101 to try his luck against the wasteland. Then MacCready remembered he’d been looking for his father. What was Zelling looking for, that she would join the Brotherhood of Steel, compromise her morals and sense of self, have orders barked at her all day and have to rise before the sun. Had she not said anything about her affiliation he would have never guessed.

Eventually they made their way to the Dugout Inn. It was a decent place to crash after a long trip and MacCready wanted to drop in on some old friends.  
“Welcome!” grinned Vadim Borobov and his eyes went wide as recognition swept his face. “MacCready!” He held out his hands then charged around the bar and before MacCready could protest the other man’s arms were around him in a bone crushing hug. 

“Hey Vadim!” he managed to croak before Vadim set him down.

“Sorry, my friend. It’s been long time. Come, have drink.” and here he clapped him on the back so hard MacCready grunted. “On house.” 

Looking over his head Vadim spotted Zelling. “Who is tiny girl?”

“That’s Zelling. I work for her at the moment.”

Upon hearing her name, she turned to look at them, eyebrows raised. Raising a hand to chest level she wiggled her fingers at Vadim in greeting. 

“Drink for her, too, then.” Vadim said, rounding the counter. “Half price.” He barked a laugh. “I joke. Also free.” 

MacCready joined Zelling at the bar watching Vadim set out two shot glasses and topping them off with a liquid that looked like the water in an old toilet and smelled like paint thinner. Zelling wrinkled her nose. “I hope it tastes better than it smells.”

“It’s Borobov’s Best Moonshine. Try! Smooth, with a kick. Put fire in belly.” Picking up a rag he gave the counter a quick wipe down. “How long you been in Commonwealth?”

Draping his fingers over the shot glass MacCready braced himself for the shot, psyching himself up as though he were about to have a bullet carved out of his side. Now he was just stalling.  
“Not long.” He replied vaguely then downed the moonshine.

This brief answer seemed to concern Vadim but he did not press. "Where is Lucy? Out shopping. Eh? I never get tired of her beautiful face. I’ll open new wine for her.”

The forlorn expression on MacCready’s face gave him pause. The smile slipped off.

“She didn’t make it, Vadim.”

Vadim leaned closer. “Not sure how great big foot fits in mouth. I’m so sorry, MacCready.”

“It’s alright. You didn’t know.”

“What happened?”  
As though sensing his pal needed some of the good old ‘help me forget’ juice, Vadim poured MacCready another drink. Folding his arms on the counter MacCready saw Zelling out of the corner of his eye giving him a look of sympathy before casting her eyes downward.  
“Ferals.” he answered laconically, pouring the liquid fire down his throat. 

“If there’s anything you need, just say so.”Vadim said quietly. MacCready gave him a subtle nod and Vadim turned the cheer right back on. “You stay a while? 

They both turned to see Zelling cough violently. Vadim shrugged apologetically. Turning he bellowed  
"Yefim. YEFIM."

The more taciturn Borobov appeared. "What now?"

"We have available room?" He gestured to Zelling who by now was sweating profusely. 

Yefim frowned. Well frowned more he was almost always frowning anyway. With a brother like Vadim MacCready reasoned he would probably frown a lot too.  
"How many has she had?"

"That was her first one." MacCready supplied. The two brothers exchanged a look that MacCready interpreted as 'you thoughtless idiot' and profound apology. 

Now people were beginning to stare. Vadim effortlessly scooped up Zelling into his arms and carried her into Room 2 while Yefim set a bucket on the floor beside the bed. 

I'm not much of a drinker, she had said. The three men kept a weather eye on the open door to room 2, one of them periodically making sure Zelling was on her side for when the inevitable vomiting came. 

MacCready stumbled into the room during one of these checks and judging from the smell at some point she had awakened and quietly vomited into the bucket. Now she was sleeping peacefully curled into a compact ball. In his drunken haze the sight of her brought to mind the image of a kitten sleeping. She was even small and ungainly like a kitten in its awkward all legs and ears phase. He remembered with some satisfaction when she threatened the Raiders, imagining a cat watching its prey with yellow eyes. Sinking deeply into a chair he sighed and glanced over at the sleeping woman again. 

She had stripped off most of her clothing apart from an old pair of what appeared to be men's shorts and a ratty stained white tank top in stark contrast to her coppery skin. So many scars, he thought. Where she had been often covered from neck to to feet in protective gear, MacCready saw the extend of her scarring. Not only had she been cursed with perhaps not the prettiest face, cruel hands had scarred that face with its honey colored eyes that lit up at the sight of anything that pleased her.  
The image of a stray kitten came to mind again. Cast out, unwanted. Cute, at least. Probably didn't bother or know how to fix herself up. He wasn't exactly all that handsome either no matter what Lucy said.  
Zelling would never be any serious competition for Lucy, for Lucy had been singularly stunning. But Lucy of course, was gone. Sometimes he wondered what she saw in him. Every now and then he'd look at her and nearly burst with pride. He hoped Duncan would be exactly like her- smart, funny, kind with her eyes and hair and his... last name.

I should have gone back. What if I had gone back. The questions spun in his head again. Then all of them would have been killed. He would have had to see Lucy mangled and torn, Duncan's scream would be the last sound he ever heard before he himself was overwhelmed.

He did the right thing, he told himself. These hypothetical situations were still too monstrous to think about. Without even thinking he stumbled onto the other side of the bed and laid down his back to Zelling, slipping into an exhausted- and thankfully dreamless- sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

When he awoke the next morning MacCready was alone. Just as well. He felt like death, probably looked it, too. He stared up at the ceiling for a time willing himself to move. His throat ached for water and his head begged him for more rest. Sleeping in the same bed would save them money. Thank goodness Zelling wasn’t the hysterically modest type. She was a soldier and likely shared sleeping accommodations with others all the time. 

Guess I overdid it. He drank some water and before he could greet her Zelling dragged him out of the Inn by the elbow.

"Aerosmith." Travis said in a bit of awe.”These guys were huge in the 20th century. This tape is a remaster. Probably a museum piece." Turing the tape in his hands he smiled a bit. "If you let me make a copy I'll see if I can dig up more info. Maybe some old music magazines, more tapes and the like." 

The tiny trailer was feeling cramped and MacCready was eager to leave but Zelling stayed, chatting with Travis until it was time for his report. 

“Well looks like we have another scavenger hunt to go on.” Zelling said as she stepped down closing the door behind her. “That is, if you want.”

He smiled at her. “Sure, I’m down.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?” She gave him a mock frown. “Is it because I’m paying you, splitting the loot?”

She was generous, to be certain. Piling his arms with cartons of cigarettes and boxes of sweets. The tech she gathered for the Brotherhood of Steel she kept even though sometimes they were pinched for caps.  
“Partly.” MacCready said truthfully “Party because I’m curious, too. Who knows, maybe a collector will pay for what we find. Unless you found yourself no longer in need of an extra gun.”

Zelling wagged her hands. “No, that’s not what I mean. I’d like you to come.”

He scoffed and she grinned. They lent the holotape to Travis who promised he’d make the copy in haste so the original could be returned to its owner. On the other hand he reasoned the original should be preserved. But Zelling insisted on keeping the original. She found it after all and only a vast sum could possibly make her part with it. Money enough to buy land, a home in a large settlement like Diamond City and she said frankly there was no way Travis could offer her that much. 

MacCready silently commended her for her unwillingness to part with something knowing its true value. And somehow he felt the holotape was also his, at least a little. It was their tape. They whiled away many long hours with that music. Neither of them could carry a tune nor could they match the singer’s vocal performance but it was fun filling the dull stretches of road with his tenor and her breathy faulty soprano. MacCready could tell her head was aching from the same pain as his and he felt remorse for letting her drink moonshine, for her eyes already narrow in shape were mere slits against even indoor lights. But why, he argued with himself. She was free to make her own choices. But there was something innocent about Zelling, something about her that made him want to protect her, not just because she hired him to do so. Not just protect her from Raiders and super mutants or feral ghouls or giant bugs but from a cruel uncaring world. No one had protected him, he reasoned. Usually that thought was bitter as gall but it was simply a fact of life. The cunning took advantage of the trusting. 

It was plain she didn’t need or want this protection. The way she didn’t let Travis coax her out of the holotape, the cutting words she spoke to traders when she knew the value of things and knew she was being swindled. Yes, Zelling knew how the world worked but she didn’t understand how people worked sometimes. She fumed for days over a comment another female soldier had made and had sat blushing at their camp later that evening.   
When MacCready was foolish enough to ask her what was the matter she exploded. Having grown up alone with no female influence she knew nothing of how upon maturing the body has its natural cycles. The most unpleasant of which stained her pants crimson sending her into hysterics. She thought she was dying. 

“I went to Knight Captain Cade.” She’d said, arms folded tightly. “He told me it was natural and don’t worry. And he gave me some...things to help with it. But then Scribe Richards said ‘don’t bleed everywhere’ and it was just so mean!”

MacCready cursed himself for his amusement. She was clearly upset and he didn’t feel the need to explain then that it had been a joke. An off color joke but not meant to be mean. He struggled to maintain his composure. Zelling had been afflicted with malnutrition for most of her life and after joining the Brotherhood of Steel she had gained a healthy amount of weight, therefore starting her body on its natural course, something she had never before experienced and that her mother had died before she could tell her about it. 

He did not envy woman’s lot. Lucy had been utterly miserable while pregnant with Duncan and MacCready frequently walked on eggshells around her, trying to be patient and attentive as possible as the months dragged on. Without painkillers, only his and Victoria’s hands to crush while shouting curses Lucy labored for a day and a half to bring their son into the world. But after seeing the little pink treasure wrapped in a blanket Victoria had made Lucy melted, said it was worth it, then passed out for some well deserved rest. 

Nor did he especially envy Zelling being in the Brotherhood of Steel. She never spoke of them to him apart from a few relevant anecdotes for she at least had enough sense to read the room and realize his low opinion of the organization. The caravan which he’d joined to come to Commonwealth said something about the Brotherhood, some old saying about locusts likening the Brotherhood to them. They couldn’t be too bad, Zelling had reasoned for they took her and any number of wastelanders in, trained them, sheltered them and provided a sense of purpose. Best of all, the most they provided was in the name: brotherhood. For all her awkward shyness Zelling had impressed enough that she was certain Proctor Quinlan -by her description a thin stuffy old man who was so fastidious he drove everyone crazy even though that was pretty much his job- had his eye on her to join his order of scribes.

They had little need for her stealth for the Brotherhood did not believe in stealth- they believed in kicking down the door. Her engineering skill was fine but the Prydwen and power armor was beyond her, as were biology apparently evidenced by her lack of knowledge of how her own body worked and vertibirds just made her dizzy. 

There were knights and paladins, the soldiers you usually saw wearing power armor. Lancers who piloted the vertibirds. The scribes, though, Zelling had said proudly, did everything else and were essential in keeping the Brotherhood running. From logistics to data retrieval, tactics, planning, you name it the scribes did it. What was more, they maintained the Prydwen, the giant airship that had arrived in force to hover above the Boston Airport as the Brotherhood’s base of operations. 

“Initiate Kallisto Zelling.” 

The firm voice made both of them look up to see the power armor, the Brotherhood insignia painted on its chestplate.

“You’re coming with me. Now.”  
MacCready looked at the armored figure, then at Zelling. He opened his mouth to speak but she held up a hand for silence.   
“Rhys, you know I can’t do that. Not until I clear up this misunderstanding.”

“I don’t give a damn about that. Paladin Danse ordered me to find you. Move out.”

Zelling sighed in relief. “The paladin? Not the Elder?” She glanced at MacCready. “Can I just have one minute?”

Rhys made a sound of profound annoyance. “Fine.”

MacCready turned to her, his confusion growing. She pressed a holotape into his hand. “This is goodbye I guess. But here, keep this.” She closed his fingers around the tape.

“But you just made a big deal out of keeping this.”

She shook her head. “It’s not important. You can have it to remember me by.”

“We’re gonna see each other again, right?”

Zelling said nothing but her eyes were intense. “Unlikely.” She said, and left him there.


	7. Chapter 7

MacCready had forgotten about the holotape when he reached Goodneighbor until he was turning out his pockets to pay his bar tab before Whitechapel Charlie introduced him to a gentleman with a sledgehammer. Once settled back into the VIP lounge he turned it in his fingers. He could picture her as though she were right in front of him, remembering the look in her eyes. 

“Hey Doc, don’t mean to bother you but I have a favor to ask.”

MacCready didn’t much care for the Memory Den. Memories were nice but that was all they were. Some things he’d prefer to forget but every now and then he considered sitting in one of the loungers to look back at his most treasured moments- the younger children who looked up to him back at Little Lamplight. Meeting Lucy, asking her to be his wife, her telling him she thought she might be pregnant. Holding Duncan the first time. No. There was no use dwelling in the past.

Dr. Amari didn’t look up. “A favor? I don’t know how I could possibly help you but ask away.”

“It’s nothing huge, I just need to borrow your terminal for a bit.”

Now he had her attention. “I have to monitor the Memory Den clients. I’m sorry, no.”

At his miffed expression Amari sighed a little. “What for?”

MacCready held up the holotape. “I need to look at this. Just really quick.”

“What’s on it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it’s important.”

Amari held up her hands in protest. “Then it’s a solid no. It could have corrupted data on it and I can’t risk my clients.”

MacCready sighed. “That’s fair.”

“What’s that you got there, sweetheart?” Irma asked. “Amari’s right but if you want you can use my terminal. Just don’t go snooping around.”

He followed her to the old backstage area. “You’re a doll, Irma. Thank you.”

“No problem. Let me just enter the password here. There you go.”

Pulling up a chair MacCready loaded up the holotape and sat down. No audio files to be found. It’s some kind of journal. Evidence she was compiling. His eyes flew across the screen skimming the green text. She said she learned nothing. Why would she lie? To protect me?

A name kept appearing.  
Beau.

A man matching Beau’s description spotted near Goodneighbor. Near Quincy. Near Lexington. No sign of Knight Davenport. He recalled when they met, she’d said someone is pinning their crimes on me. That Knight Rhys had come and arrested her. Why did she give him this, why not bring it with her? A few sightings wasn’t exactly hard evidence but it was more than she had.

MacCready’s jaw tightened as he read and read. What I need, he thought, is a real detective. Shutting down the terminal he pocketed the holotape.  
“Thanks, Irma.”  
He rushed out the door without another word.

A hand mirror came into his view and MacCready took it, inspecting John’s work. His beard had become unruly in these past weeks and a clean up while in town distracted him a bit, long enough to clear his head. He handed the mirror back.  
“Looks great. Thanks again.”

Rising from the barber chair MacCready set his hat back on his head and waved to John and his mother Cathy, setting down the street. The neon pink heart flickered in the dim light. Just as MacCready reached for the door it burst open and a ghoul man crashed into his shoulder without so much as an apology.  
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” He shouted but the ghoul didn’t even so much as give him a backward glance. Jerk.

The door was still open and MacCready let himself in. “What was that all about?”

“Oh some thug from Goodneighbor wanting Nick to fix his mistake.” said a pretty young woman thumbing through files in a cabinet drawer. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah I might have a case for you, if your detective will help.”

“The detective will decide for himself.” 

Swiveling in the chair Nick Valentine turned to look at his new prospective client. MacCready almost started at the man’s appearance. He wasn’t a man at all. A machine, with a cigarette between two metal fingers. MacCready could see the inner workings of his jaw where the dirty white material that served as skin was long gone. Nick peer at him with bright yellow eyes that reminded him of the neon sign outside.  
“You’re a-”

“A synth, yes. Don’t worry, I’m not here to go berserk and kill everyone.” Nick said dryly and pressed the cigarette into the ashtray where it hissed. “What can I do for you?”

“Well it’s kind of a long story.”

Nick smiled grimly, or maybe he was just smiling and everything he did just unnerved MacCready. It was hard to tell. There was just something so uncanny about him. But he sounded friendly almost like Teddy, the almost always silent husband of his late wife’s friend, when he did bother to speak.  
“It always is. Have a seat.”

“Nick,” the woman fussed. “I just got the cigarette stench out of everything. You can’t even inhale I don’t know why you bother.” She sounded somewhat amused in spite of her fussing. 

MacCready took a seat. “Well it’s like this. I have this friend and she’s in trouble.”  
“What kind of trouble?” Nick asked. “I’m going to need more details. As many as we can get.”

MacCready took a deep breath and explained as best he could. Zelling had hired him while she investigated false claims of theft and gave him a holotape containing evidence on it but she was arrested by a member of her squad before she could gather enough proof to prove herself innocent. The other two stared at him.

“That sounds like a Brotherhood problem.” Nick said with a finality that made MacCready’s heart sink.

“It’s everybody’s problem.” He held up the tape. “If she’s right the actual traitor is going to hurt a lot of people.”

This got the synth’s attention and he exchanged looks with his secretary. 

“What makes you say that?” The woman asked. 

“What Ellie means is, “ Nick put in “ whose toes are we going to step on? The Brotherhood’s to be certain. They might not take kindly on outsiders interfering in their business.”

Well MacCready was involved now. This was bigger than he’d realized. “I have to find her regardless. I have to go.”

Maybe Nick was right. Maybe it was just a Brotherhood problem. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him. The concrete barricades outside the Cambridge police station painted with the sword, gears and wings weren’t welcoming. Still, MacCready walked past them as though he were expected. He was halted by a suit of power armor. 

“Whoa, whoa, civvie. You can’t just walk in here.”

“I need to speak to Paladin Danse.” MacCready said, grateful he’d recalled the name of Zelling’s commanding officer. 

“Are you looking to join up?”

“Yeah.” He lied. 

The knight stepped aside. Several Brotherhood soldiers in the same uniforms as Zelling or in orange jumpsuits milled about the old police station. Hushed conversations drifted from the other rooms but every now and then a voice was raised, the muffled comment brought a sprinkle of laughter. 

“I’m looking for Paladin Danse?” He asked one woman, her head shaved bald. She said nothing, but merely pointed to a man bent over a terminal.

“Paladin Danse?”

After a moment the man looked up. “Yes? Are you here for recruitment?”

He was younger than MacCready expected, or thought perhaps. Danse looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties and like most of the jumpsuit wearing soldiers was well built. He looked up as he heard the name Rhys called and saw the man outside his armor, bald and strong as a bull. MacCready looked away hoping the knight didn’t recognize him. By now Danse turned to look down at him and MacCready realized he hadn't made answer.

“Well?” Danse pressed.

Might as well come out and say it. “You have an Initiate Zelling on your squad, right?”

“I have her in custody, yes.” The Paladin said tightly.

“I need to talk to her. It’s urgent.”

Danse turned from him. “Zelling is being charged for treason, she’s not getting visitors. Haylen, escort the civilian out.”

A young woman in a uniform that had pockets wherever pockets could go and a coif and hat so tight that no tendril of hair could possibly slip loose began to shepherd him toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“No, no wait! Listen!” MacCready protested.” You’ve got it wrong! She didn’t do it!”

Haylen looked sharply at him. “What?”

MacCready turned to her in desperation. “Please, make him listen. I have proof-”

She raised her eyebrows, so fine and red they were hardly visible. “What proof?”

Hastily he dug the holotape out of his pocket and gave it to her. “Please look at this. That’s all I ask.”

Haylen looked at him, the tape, then at Danse who nodded. Inserting the holotape into a terminal MacCready leaned over the counter, clenching his jaw. 

The screen filled with endless lines of code, a veritable downpour of data while Haylen pressed the keys in vain. “It’s corrupted. Damn it!”

No. No!

Danse rounded the counter and was at her side. “A virus?”

“MacCready?” Zelling called, perhaps recognizing his voice in the tumult. 

“What is this? How do we shut it off?” he asked rushing toward the room where he heard her ignoring the soldiers until he was stopped by metal bars. A holding cell utilized by the police from the old world, somehow built to withstand two centuries of decay. The cell might have been small to a man as big as Danse who could raise both arms and touch the wall without leaning to one side but for Zelling it seemed huge. 

“I’m glad you’re not as dumb as you look. Are they going to let me out?”

Holding the bars MacCready sighed relief. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. That tape you gave me has a virus.”

“I know.” She said. “I am guilty of stealing. I stole that tape from _him_.”


	8. Chapter 8

Zelling sat in a chair with her hands on her knees. Beside her MacCready sat with his right calf draped across his left thigh, bouncing his foot in anxiety, rolling the ankle and watching the toe box of his shoe bend as though it were highly interesting. Zelling stared meditatively at the floor but every now and then when he looked at her she flicked her eyes toward him. 

“I’m glad you came.” She said. “But why did you come?”

I’m beginning to wonder that myself. He couldn’t make out the conversation between Haylen and Danse but the tones used didn’t sound like they would end on a positive note. The door flew open. 

“There is no way this is just an open and shut case.” Haylen was fuming and she caught Zelling in a gaze that surprised the younger woman.

"You said you got this from Knight Davenport.” Haylen said. “And the schematics from logistics, you took those too?” Her tone was pleading, begging for Zelling to make it not true.

“He gave them to me, I didn’t know they were stolen.” Zelling protested.

Haylen shook her head. “You didn’t double check to make sure Davenport went through the proper avenues?”

“Why would I?” Zelling held up her hands.

Sighing loudly Haylen walked the floor rubbing the bridge of her nose. MacCready watched her, forearms draped across his knees. “The evidence is pretty damning. You stole from a Brother, Zelling. That’s all there is to it.”

MacCready couldn’t bring himself to look at Zelling for she seemed to be on the verge of tears. “What are they going to do to her?”

“The Elder is a little busy with the war at hand so likely the final decision will fall to Paladin Danse."

“Wait a second,” MacCready interrupted. “Why not talk to this Davenport guy? He stole from you, Zelling stole from him, two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“Yeah,” Haylen put in “This wasn’t a simple clerical error someone worked around logging Brotherhood property.”

“This is giving me a headache.” MacCready stood up, watching Paladin Danse looking over another scribe’s shoulder as he tried to purge the virus. Taking off his cap briefly he scratched his head. Why had the virus worked now instead of at Irma’s? He could only speculate for he was not familiar at all with this technology, new or old. Any terminals he and Zelling had come across he left severely alone. That was her area of expertise. Maybe then Davenport had counted on her to use it. “This all seems a bit harsh.”

“It is.” Haylen frowned. “And I don’t want to see us fall apart over this. I’m hoping Danse will soften the blow a bit.” 

“I can’t sit around in jail while Davenport is still out there.” Zelling rose from her seat and with the conviction in her voice and every line in her body to MacCready’s eyes for the briefest moment she stood tall as a giant. “I know what he’s up to.”

The others listened intently and she somehow managed to capture Danse’s attention.

“That virus was a present from a raider. It was supposed to be in exchange for the schematics but Davenport gave them to me to throw everyone off the trail. I figured it out after I caught them…” she trailed off, blushing.

“Caught them doing what?” MacCready asked.

Averting her gaze she only turned redder. 

“Go on.” said Haylen.

“R-right!” Zelling stammered. “Davenport’s been communicating with raiders, feeding them information, smuggling them tech.”

Here Haylen sat down. “He’s a traitor. After everything- he came so highly recommended too.”

Zelling slammed her fist into her open palm. Too hard, for she winced and rubbed her palm slightly. “If only Danse will let me go then MacCready and I will catch the bastard!”

“Maybe, “Haylen started “you should see if you can stop that virus before it corrupts that terminal with all our valuable data on it.”

Zelling started toward Danse and the other scribe. Haylen watched her then smiled faintly at MacCready. “She’s something else, huh?”

MacCready smiled in spite of himself. “She is.”

And then Zelling ran smack into a table corner. “Ow.”

They both winced. Straining to hear, MacCready wasn’t sure how Zelling managed to convince Danse to let her work on the virus but she pulled up a chair and went to it.

“You really believe her?” MacCready asked, rolling an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

Haylen looked down at her hands then back up. “I know her as well as anyone. She’s been with you a while, do you think she’s up to something so...diabolical?”

Zelling’s mounting indignation came to their ears. “No no no no no no no yes! No. No! Why?! What kind of chem heads programmed this?” The sound of keys being pressed madly. “Reboot! Reboot, you bastard!”

“It was kind of you to come all the way out here to support her.” Haylen said absently, listening to Zelling’s ranting.

“Okay, here we go. What?! The power of Christ compels you, you infernal machine!”

“Well...she and I have been through a lot.” MacCready rubbed the back of his neck. The knowing little smile Haylen gave him made him feel odd. 

“I will dig up…” Zelling growled “every single RobCo programmer and throw their bones to the mirelurks! I will- OH, COME ON!”

“Kal, maybe you should take a break?” MacCready suggested while Haylen hid her smile with her hand. 

Then Aerosmith crashed into Sunshine. 

“Whoo hoo!” Zelling cheered, wiggling in her chair in a sort of dance and singing under her breath. “System restored let’s check the files. Bingo!”

“Alright,” Danse said failing to hide his amusement. “Turn it off.” 

She complied. “Well I copied all my findings on here.” The holotape was in her hand and she waved it for emphasis.” Whoever made it certainly was cocky. But now I have a lead. A raider who fancies himself -or herself- a programmer. A raider using the name Shadow."

“I’ll take a look and see what I can find, too.” Haylen offered.

“That would be great.”

Danse looked between the two women. “No one’s going to do anything. You’re still facing serious charges, initiate. “

Haylen lifted a hand as though shielding Zelling from Danse. “Sir, we have proof of Davenport’s crimes.”

Danse folded his arms. “His sweep and retrieve team is still in the field. As soon as he reports back to the Prydwen I’ll have him sent here.”

Sighing relief Haylen cloaked her triumph but flicked her eyes toward MacCready.


	9. Chapter 9

The little pile of cigarette butts grew by one as MacCready stood outside the barricade waiting for news. Not since leaving the Capital Wasteland had he been so nervous around the Brotherhood of Steel. On the other hand maybe these were rational after all. So Zelling wasn’t just a bright eyed wastelander dazzled over the prospect of a real bed and a paying job. 

Maybe I should just go, he thought. They’ll take care of her here or will as soon as they’ve decided she’s served her time. What a waste. 

Then he saw her. He’d made a habit of smiling when he saw her for he too was used to disapproving looks. Zelling looked pale, tired. MacCready’s smile faded a bit.

“So?” He began hopefully.

She wrung her hands. “I’m still in deep trouble.” Zelling tittered nervously. “Haylen gave me an earful. She said we're lucky this didn’t go all the way up to the top brass or we’d all have our butts in a sling for the rest of the year.”

“You have been bad.” He teased, trying to keep his tone light. 

She had her hair down and the longer strands got stuck in the short, weaving into them like weeds growing in a crack in the road. “I’m going to stay here until Davenport comes back then they’ll decide what to do with him. And me. They’ll probably reassign me to the Prydwen. I like it but I don’t want to be stuck inside all day. “ Zelling clenched her fists at her sides. “Which would suck because we won’t get to hang out!”

“You still get leave, kitten.” Reaching for her he swept the long portion of her hair to one side which made her smile. “Besides, we’re always gonna be buddies, right?” This time he rubbed the fuzzy part of her head, and he was rewarded with her laugh. “Looks like you need a trim.”

“Why are you petting me?”

“‘Cause you’re a kitten.”

Zelling deadpanned a ‘meow’. “It’s probably going to be a long time before I get leave.”

Inserting the holotape into her Pip Boy and MacCready indulged at a little air guitar, and as the drums kicked in Zelling swung her hips in a little dance, patting her legs off time. They both sang along, causing a passing knight in power armor to chuckle. She shut off the music.

“Well I better get going.” 

They both stood there uncertainly. He didn’t want to leave. He never wanted to leave. Then she crashed into him and threw her arms around his neck. He could easily see over her head and nobody was watching, surprisingly. Not that he cared. MacCready held her. He remembered his last hug was from Duncan. That had been a long time ago, it seemed. When he departed he’d kissed his son on his forehead, anxiously noting it was hot with fever. That had been enough to make the boy open his eyes and curl his little hands, fretfully saying ‘daddy’.

Daddy’s going on a trip, Duncan. He’s gonna get something to make you all better.

No you can’t come too. 

Mommy’s watching over me, I’ll be okay.

Victoria had suggested he speak of Lucy for one day the boy would ask why he didn’t have a mother. It was like a knife in the heart and MacCready had argued against it, why should Duncan feel the loss too. ‘So you can miss her together’.

The notion of mommy watches over us was invented by Duncan and MacCready had no choice but to indulge him in this, for it was his innocent way of keeping Lucy alive in memory, a reminder of how she was there in some way. MacCready wasn’t especially looking forward to telling Duncan how Lucy died, but the boy had a healthy caution for anything that wasn’t his father or Victoria. 

Well maybe he could find Med Tek himself. The problem was he wasn’t any good with computers. He held Zelling at arms length. “I do have to go, Kallie. There’s something I have to do.”

He definitely had her attention now and with his hands on her shoulders he leaned in and quietly asked “Do you remember when I told you I came up to the Commonwealth from DC?”

Of course she did. Against all his protests to never go near a vault again, they once stopped in Vault 81 to do some trading. The residents let them in with reluctance but a few young people especially children were interested in talking to outsiders. To his surprise, Zelling patiently answered their thousand questions about the wasteland -leaving out the graphic parts- and earned a bit of ire from their parents. Zelling only shook her head and said they’d grow up and have to make decisions on their own someday. MacCready commented briefly he hoped Duncan would never get the urge to wander and would be content on the farm. Perhaps he’d meet a nice girl (or boy) and settle there indefinitely. That was what every parent wanted, wasn’t it? For their children to grow up safe and happy.

“You have a child?” Zelling asked.

“Yeah,” MacCready said, beaming with fatherly pride. “A little boy, almost five years old.”

“Oh,” She cooed. “Is he handsome?”

“Too handsome for his own good.” 

Duncan was a nice looking boy -if MacCready was being unbiased- for he was fortunate to favor his mother. MacCready’s only complaint -and it was a small one- was that Duncan’s eyes were not green as Lucy’s had been, but blue like his own. 

“Is he a little rascal like you were?” She smirked. He’d told her too many stories of his days as the stubborn, foul mouthed mayor of Little Lamplight.

“No,” MacCready replied softly. “He’s...gentle. He cries if he sees an animal get hurt. Always running to Teddy, our neighbor, when he finds a wounded bird or rabbit. We have a critter graveyard at the back of the house.” He rubbed his neck looking a bit ashamed. “The graves are usually empty. We have to eat.”

“He values life, at any rate.” Zelling said thoughtfully. “But one day you’ll have to tell him where meat comes from.”

The beams of the headlamps from the power armored knights shone brightly in the gathering dusk.  
Zelling looked down. “What is it? Does it have to do with those Gunner guys?” She looked sharply at him. “Are they still after you? Because I’ll find a sentrybot to go after them if I have to.”

Scouting the Gunner base Zelling had decided they weren’t worth the ammo, and it was much funnier for them to try and figure out why their assaultrons went berserk and attacked them. It wasn’t as satisfying but MacCready took grim pleasure in their confusion and fear.

“No it’s nothing like that.” MacCready licked his lips. “I don’t say this lightly but I trust you, Kal. And since I’ve helped you I’m hoping this means you’ll help me. I told you about Duncan. What I didn’t mention was that he’s sick. Very sick. Some kind of...boils appeared on his body, these blue boils. He’s just a kid, I don’t know how long he can fight this. But I have a lead and I need you to help me.”

Furrowing her brow she nodded once. Taking her hands in his he squeezed them. “There’s this old medical research facility and you’re the only one I know that could hack into its security system."

“I think, “ she said slowly, “that I can convince Danse to let me scope a place for a sweep and retrieve. I’ll do what I can but I have to be back for the hearing.”

He sighed relief and squeezed her again. “Thank you. This might be his only chance. But are you really going to get in more trouble?”

“ If it’s there we’ll get it. Besides, thinking about the Gunners gave me an idea.”


	10. Chapter 10

“They experimented on people here? That’s sick.” Kallie said rubbing the prickles of her freshly shaved head. She sat at the desk in the too large dusty chair, her feet not touching the floor. “Did you see the handcuffed skeletons?”

MacCready stood in the doorway, alert for more ferals. He was tense, anxious, but alert and not in the mood for idle speculation. Lots of prewar corporations performed experiments on unwilling participants. Like many old locked down facilities, the inhabitants remained and either died or turned ghoul. The walls of the old place groaned and his finger was on the trigger. Just normal building settling noises. Nothing to worry about.

“I’m in!” Kallie said triumphantly. “Come on, let's get down to the research area.”

As they traversed the deserted halls Kallie peered into every room and closet. She was always on the lookout for useful bits and bobs but MacCready was in no mood for her scavving today. Something felt distinctly wrong, but he didn’t know what it was. Why was he being so paranoid? Ghouls didn’t bother him. The stinking zombies were frail as paper and a chore to kill but they- no, don’t think about it. Was he really getting all worked up over his memories again? He told himself he’d never be that kind of man who constantly looked back, letting it tear at his heart. Forward. Ever forward. He was here for Duncan. MacCready wasn’t a man of faith either but he begged silently that if there was some higher power, a god, whatever, please, let this cure exist and let me get it, let me get it and send it to my son, please don’t make me lose him too. 

“MacCready?” Kallie’s voice was soft and her slanting eyes were wide with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just keeping an eye out.” He said with deceptive ease. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed briefly. That did make him feel a little better. 

They both instantly froze. Radiation is a silent killer and most don’t know they were exposed until it’s too late. Zelling held up her Pip-Boy and the Geiger counter sounded its warning clicks. Then they grew faster, louder. Frantic.

The glowing one ran at them with its mouth open, bright green ooze spilling in its wake. Kallie let out a shout and fired, the red laser searing the ghoul’s flesh. The stench was unlike anything MacCready smelled before and he had long learned to ignore bad smells, plus his smoking suppressed the sense. But there was no mercy from this and he had to keep his stomach steady as well as his hands as he put a bullet in the thing’s head, which only burst one of the growths growing from its cheek, and whatever it was that sprayed them both made them retch. 

Explosives in close quarters was never a good idea, especially now since it might destroy the precious cure. The ghoul staggered after Zelling, reaching for her with its grimy hands digging its fingers into her cheeks. The Geiger counter kept rattling its warning. MacCready felt a sharp pain in his foot as he tried to put distance between himself and the glowing one. Panic tore at him as he fumbled with the bolt of his rifle. Why didn’t he have a side arm? Stumbling toward a counter his foot gave a tremendous throb and he shifted his weight not stopping to wonder at the damage. Kallie beat the ghoul’s face into a pulp with the butt of her rifle.. Why did she always have to go first? MacCready hunted frantically for a weapon, moving aside what looked to be a big red stimpak and his hand landed on a heavy lead pipe. 

Then Kallie screamed.

Her arms up in defense, the glowing one had bitten into her forearm and was pulling like a dog, trying to tear off a gobbet of flesh. A combat knife was in her hand and she drove it up to the hilt into the ghoul’s eye but even that didn’t make it give up its prize.

Why did he only stare? His friend was in danger. MacCready felt surreal, like this wasn’t happening, like he was watching himself. Kallie somehow got the knife back and tried the ghoul’s throat. It made horrible gurgling noises.

“MacCready!”

The sound of his name brought him back and he had the lead pipe in both hands bringing it down with all his might on the glowing one’s head over and over and over…

“MacCready! MacCready!”

The pipe fell to the floor.

“Get away from that ghoul before the residual radiation makes you ill.”

Lucy?

The blood throbbed in his ears.

“MacCready?” 

He shut his eyes. When he opened them he was sitting with his back pressed to the counter. 

“Breathe.” She said.

“I know how to breathe, Lucy.” 

Her brow furrowed. “It’s Kallie.”

“Huh?”  
She sighed “It’s Kallie, RJ.I’m Kallie. Kallisto? Zelling?”

Amber eyes. Her hair was in disarray and the ghoul had raked red furrows into her cheeks and jaw. “RJ stay with me. Take a deep breath.”

She prompted him by taking a deep breath herself. He complied. Then he remembered. “Holy sh- you’re bleeding.”

Pointing at his foot she said “So are you.”

Flexing his toes the pain returned in a rush. Plus his sock felt wet. Not good.

“Are you alright?” She said pulling her backpack over.

“No.” MacCready growled.

“I know, I know,” She unzipped the backpack and took out a medkit. “I mean, you blacked out.”

He withdrew his injured foot but she sat on his leg. “Ow! What are you talking about?”

“I mean, “She continued “you called me Lucy. And stop squirming this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better.” Contemplating she turned and said, “Give me your arm.” 

He surrendered his arm and she pushed up the sleeve, saying “Think fast!”  
Before he could say ‘what?’ she stabbed him in the arm with a needle. The pain was so sudden compounded with his foot that he froze, unable to make a sound. Then the soothing fuzzy feeling of the Med-X snaked through him. 

“Just relax, I’ll take care of it.” 

For a timeless time MacCready was blissfully unaware of whatever Zelling was doing to his foot. “I know it’s probably not a great idea to give you opiates when you just came off a PTSD blackout but I’m not about to let you feel this pain.”

“Duncan. The cure.” MacCready said deliriously. His tongue felt huge like it wouldn’t fit in his mouth. “PTSD?”

“Post traumatic stress disorder. Lots of soldiers have it. Things that remind them of a traumatizing events can lead to blackout episodes like what you just had. Like how you froze up and didn’t fight?”

He didn’t answer. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You can learn to cope. I’ll help you.”

“Do you?” He asked, then realized the fragment didn’t make sense. “Do you, I mean, ever black out?”

His foot was exposed to air he realized. In his haze he didn’t feel her remove his boot. What on earth did he step on that went through the sole? 

“No.” She examined her work. “Well you got lucky this wasn’t more serious, I…” 

Pushing herself off his leg Kallie tried to stand but fell. 

“Kallie-”

Must have dosed herself with Med-X too. MacCready looked where the glowing one had fallen but there was only a pile of ash. Kallie must have burned it. She’d carried plenty of RadAway and even shown him how to administer it. He’d hoped to never have to do it himself and muttering under his breath, repeating her instructions all the while cursing her selflessness. She’d ignored her ghoul bite to minister to him first. That was very touching and all but how could he face Haylen and Danse if something happened to their little initiate?  
Remembering to start with his good foot he went after her, pulling her to him. “Stubborn.”

She made feeble protests even as he pulled her into his lap, holding the RadAway up so that gravity could deliver the solution into her veins until his arm got tired then he laid it on the counter above them. With purified water and antiseptic he cleaned the bite wound and the scratches on her face, hoping it would be enough to stave off infection at least until they could get back to Cambridge and to a skilled medic.


	11. Chapter 11

The shadows were the same night or day in the ruins but the clock on Kallie’s Pip-Boy read 10:43 PM. MacCready had gotten out their bedrolls and put them side by side. They usually arranged their sleeping spaces at a reasonable distance, not too far to rouse one another covertly in case of raiders but not so close to cause discomfort. Though they were both from military organizations where men and women slept in close quarters so as late they were comfortable enough with one another to sleep closely.That would bode well as the nights grew chilly and a fire wasn’t the best idea.

“Here we go. One dose of Prevent.” Kallie said, apparently either over RadAway sickness or ignoring the stomach pains and headaches that were part of the experience. A few empty cans of water were on the floor. She couldn’t have drunk all of them. She must have had at least one drink, and the others for food preparation or washing. 

MacCready took the syringe handling it as though it were a holy relic. “This is it. This is it! We have to send this to Duncan-” he staggered to his feet. “Let’s-” MacCready stopped. “I know you don’t feel great right now.”

She smiled. “I know you’re eager to get Duncan this. I’ll be alright.”

MacCready smiled at her in what felt like the most genuine smile he’d shown her in months. Such was his joy that he set the precious medicine down and pulled her into his arms. “Thank you.” he said over and over. 

It didn’t occur to him that the cure might not work, or that it wouldn’t reach his son. He overflowed with hope and appreciation. No seed of doubt could find its way into his heart. On impulse he took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead.

Her face was red with astonishment and they both laughed though MacCready suspected Zelling was laughing at his action and not with him in his contagious joy. She took his hand. “It’s late. We might as well camp here and head out in the morning.”

This was the only time MacCready found himself eager to get to Goodneighbor. He might even say hi to Gifford, that crusty old bastard. The sublevel of the Med Tek Research building was safer than going out at night and after Zelling was satisfied that the damage to his foot was not as severe as she’d thought they ate a bit, splitting a sweet roll for dessert. 

“Man,” MacCready said licking the icing off his fingers. “I owe you big time.”

He braced himself for Kallie’s frank assessment to not thank her yet but she said “You don’t owe me a thing. RJ. What are friends for?” 

Friends. If he were honest with himself, MacCready had no friends since Little Lamplight. They were still in his thoughts though. They’d been more like his brothers and sisters. Sometimes curiosity gnawed at him and he wondered how they were. Did Joseph go out into the world and become a teacher? What about Lucia who was bright and mature, did she grow up and start her own medical practice? She saved his life and that of the others many times. By now Bumble was a mungo and had to leave. He tried not to think about them. They had their own lives. Nor could he return and trade, that was against the rules. Sometimes he wondered how life had made him so hard after what he’d been through. It had been for the best, he argued with himself.

She then fired up the chatter. Always on the hunt for junk, Kallie had a knack for gadgets and she promised to find him a better gun than his sad old rifle. That was what she called it. Sad and old. MacCready feigned insult for he liked his gun and was distraught when it was missing but Kallie had only taken it to clean it, fussing all the while. 

Kallie went to sleep first and MacCready watched over her for a while even though the place was empty. In the quiet he almost wished she’d wake back up and talk to him some more. It was in these moments when he realized how lonely he truly was. 

His tired little kitten. Suddenly he had the impulse to reach out and pat her arm but even that could be enough to awaken her. His hand paused midway but brushed a strand of hair away from her face. 

MacCready slept too, better than he had in months. 

When he did wake up it was because Kallie’s hand fell on his chest. She was out like a light and though not wanting to disturb her he gently shook her awake. “Come on, kitten, rise and shine.”

Rolling over she turned her back to him, grumbling.

“C’mon, we have to go to Goodneighbor.”

Taking a deep breath Kallie sat up as MacCready packed their things. She turned on her Pip-Boy and Aerosmith serenaded them with Deuces Are Wild. By the time reached the elevator they both burst into the chorus. 

They were both quiet as the ancient elevator began its slow ascent, giving each other furtive smiles. 

That was when he heard it. A snap and ping. Kallie turned off the music and listened. The elevator car jolted violently. MacCready and Zelling stood firm, feet apart. For a second they caught each other's gaze as though each asking what was going on. 

The lights flickered, the cables snapped and the elevator plunged down the shaft into darkness.

When MacCready did open his eyes he wondered if he had. The primordial fear of this abyssal darkness, the fact that he was essentially sealed in this metal tomb made his heart race and he thought it would go flying out of his chest. Seconds went by, maybe minutes, he did not know. Then he remembered. 

“Kallie!”

He groped around the floor and touched something hard, then he grabbed it stupidly. It was her boot. Feeling his way up, patting leg, arm, shoulder, he found her face. “Kallie- Kallie wake up!”

Kallie groaned but did not stir.

It did not occur to him to turn on her Pip-Boy light, he didn’t know how the mechanism worked anyway nor did he try to strike a match. It was dark. So dark. Ghouls. Pitch black. Metal tomb. We’re buried alive. We’re going to die here and it’s my fault. My fault. 

My fault.

She was torn apart before I could even fire a shot.

My fault. My fault. 

MacCready saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing.


	12. Chapter 12

“Hey.” 

MacCready squeezed his eyes shut then opened one. Lucy stood with her bag over one shoulder and Duncan on her hip. “Victoria and I are going to Megaton. Gotta get stuff to patch her roof, you okay to watch Duncan today?”

MacCready wiped his face. “Was gonna start plowing today but yeah.”

Turning to smile at Duncan, Lucy bounced him a little. “You gonna be good for Daddy while Mommy’s gone? We won’t be gone long.”

Setting the boy down Lucy bent to kiss MacCready. She smiled at him and her face was covered in blue boils. “Won’t be long.”

MacCready stared at her. Hands reached from under the bed and held him down, slimy grey hands. They grabbed Lucy too even as she was smiling at him, blissfully unaware she was being taken to be eaten by ghouls.

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

Duncan was gone. MacCready was held fast and couldn’t look, but he tried to call ‘Duncan!’ but no sound came out. Lucy let herself be dragged across the floor under the bed. 

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

The fingers pressed into her flesh, digging. Into her face, into the boils. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

The Pip-Boy cast its eerie green glow across Kallie’s face. MacCready stared up at her. She’d pillowed his head in her lap and he tried to lift his left arm to touch his face but couldn’t. His arm felt numb. He must have fallen with all his weight on it when the elevator car hit bottom.

With his right hand MacCready covered his mouth briefly. “The Brotherhood knows you’re here, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “But they’re not going to come, they couldn’t even bother going after Davenport. Rhys just took it upon himself to arrest me when he happened to be in town when we were.”

MacCready thought a moment. “Did you try the hatch?”

“Yeah but it’s bent. Best case scenario is we climb out but I’m not sure how we’re going to do that.” Kallie took a deep breath. “The doors could be pried open but again, not sure how.”

He was proud of her for not dissolving into tears at their predicament, quite forgetting his semi breakdown earlier. He wasn’t sure if he could handle her crying at this of all times. She saw him struggling with his arm and testing it for breaks concluded it might just be a fracture and splinted it accordingly. His ribs hurt too but it seemed to be minor bruising. After a moment Kallie sighed. 

“Well this bites a big dick, doesn’t it.”

MacCready laughed in spite of himself. Kallie never used such language even under extreme provocation. “Yes it does.”

They were both silent for a long time. 

“I did say I’d get a cure or die trying.” MacCready said quietly.

“Are you dead yet?” Zelling asked.

“Not yet but give it time.”

“Well that won’t do.”

He laughed, a mirthless sound. “You’re not afraid of anything are you?”

The Pip-Boy light turned off. Saving power was probably a good idea. “I don’t like dogs.”

That was true. Zelling was terrified of the vicious wild dogs that roamed the wasteland, or the attack dogs trained by raiders. But she endured all of that. She hated raiders most of all. Raiders had taken the last person who cared for her since her mother died, gunned him down in cold blood. Ferals were one thing, but a sentient human killing another for no reason except the pleasure of it was beyond MacCready’s comprehension. Sure, he’d killed for caps but that was different. Raiders killed for fun, for the pleasure of it, the power they could hold over another. Senseless taking of a life just to get at their belongings or simply because they could. 

He didn’t bother trying to explain to her that he meant fear of intangible things, fear of being alone, or of the dark. Well the latter had some merit but he meant things like loneliness, a lack of purpose. She didn’t lack any of that, either. The Brotherhood of Steel gave her fellowship and purpose and he liked to think he himself gave her friendship. She enjoyed his company at any rate, of that he was certain.

Kallie sighed. “To think there’s so much I’ve missed out on.” 

MacCready scoffed. “Like what? You’re in an army that has a ship that can travel all over the place, more technical know how that most people and no fear.” 

“Well there is one thing I’d like to experience just once.” Came Kallie’s voice in the dark.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

A pause.  
More silence.

“Kal?”

“Well, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“I won’t make fun, cross my heart.”

“Um, I’ve always wanted to…”

“To?” He pressed.

“I’ve never…”

He was amused now. “Never what?”

Now she sounded annoyed. “You know what, forget it!”

“Look, I’m sorry. Go on, please.”

She sighed heavily. “I’ve never...you know. With a guy.”

Now MacCready caught on. “Never like, had…” he trailed off, feeling awkward.

“Sex. I’ve never had sex.”

MacCready said ‘huh!’ in a manner that drew a huff from his unseen companion. “What? Oh come on, you’re not ugly or anything.”

“Do you want to? I mean would you want to? With me?"

For a long moment, too long, he held his tongue between his teeth, knowing he was treading on delicate ground for she was a dear friend and it dawned on him as miraculously as a blind man being granted sight that she might feel something deeper than friendship for him. MacCready realized he must make answer and in full truth, no matter the consequences.

Women had offered services to him before either out of the misguided perception that he took such actions lightly or that he was so hard up for female companionship he would lay with anyone. The truth of it was, he was not yet ready to fully give himself to another. That, and plenty of them had God knows what manner of venereal diseases. Or they thought they could offer him sex instead of caps. But really, he just wasn’t ready to be that close to someone again. Someday, perhaps.

“Kallie,” MacCready said slowly “There’s a lot between what we have now and...that. And I do care about you, a lot. More than you know. I’m not about to rush into things and leave you all confused and hurt.”

“I figured, but your wife-”

He interrupted, speaking gently as possible.“I miss Lucy, that is true. But...I have to move on sometime. And you have to understand that I can’t get close to someone on a whim. There’s Duncan, and he and I are kind of a package deal.”

“I know,” came the sullen voice from the dark.

“Yeah,” He continued in that same soft tone. “You already went all out to save him.”

Another pause. 

“What’s it like? To be with...someone like that.”

MacCready drew breath to speak then realized he could not answer that question to her satisfaction.  
"It's like-" he paused and sighed in frustration speaking slowly as though drawing words from a seldom used well of thought. "It's like nothing else but you and the other person matters for a while.”

Kallie mumbled “I mean, does it feel good?”

He had to curl in his lips and push down the laugh that tried to escape. “It does if you know what you’re doing.”

He heard her moving and then the light came back on for her to inspect the door. Running her fingers along the door Kallie tried to find a way to grip the seam. “I thought these old things would open in an emergency but the cables snapped. If I only had a crowbar or something to wedge here. If I was in power armor I could pull it open no sweat.”

She did love power armor, admired it as much as other girls admired dresses and shoes. Once MacCready made the mistake of asking why didn’t she use power armor. Kallie was much too short to properly control the mechanisms of a power armor suit and nobody felt like making adjustments for her. Besides with her skill set she would be much better suited to the role of a scribe. 

“Damn it.” Kallie cursed and pounded her fist on the door. “Damn it!” She shouted, pounded the door again and sighed. Then she tried the hatch. It too was jammed. 

The light went back off. They had water and food, but after that ran out it would only be a week before they died of thirst. There was utter silence again, the only occasional sound himself or Kallie breathing, sniffing or the rustle of fabric and creak of leather as they moved around getting comfortable.

After a while he realized she was crying. The telltale stifled sobs and huffs made him reach out and touch her arm. “Hey,” he said gently. Before he could even say anything else she had her arms around him, her hot tears trickling onto his neck and he felt her go limp with misery.

MacCready didn’t know how long they sat in the corner of the elevator, her in his lap. For the longest time he held her and said nothing. Eventually she sat with her back to him, corralled by his legs. Over her shoulder he messed with her Pip-Boy and she explained its functions. A map, vitals, the light of course, and a targeting system. Then there was that Aerosmith tape. That little tape that had brought them so much joy. It took him a few seconds but he figured out how to make it play and they sat there in the Pip-Boy’s glow, listening.

“Did you mean what you said?” She asked him.

“Mean what?”

“Caring for me.”

“Every word.” He said, and kissed her temple.

The hours dragged on and they tried the hatch and the doors more than once and got nothing but bruised fingers for their trouble. Then once, MacCready woke up to Kallie slamming the butt of her rifle on the hatch to no avail. Nature’s call got a little awkward and they had to dedicate an old rag in the corner and the rest of their refuse to it. Just for that alone they ate and drank sparingly. After a while Kallie stopped eating and it took much pleading and cajoling from MacCready to get her to do it.

“When did you get to be so optimistic?” She said when she finally was convinced to eat, at least a little.

He knew what she meant. Why eat or drink when there was no way out. Before, he might have succumbed to his fate but now he had far too much to live for. He had to get back to Duncan and see him made whole and live the rest of his life, and he wanted Kallie there too. 

“I learned it from you.” He answered and she flicked her golden eyes toward him. 

Lacing his fingers across his middle, MacCready sat in silence a while. He did care for Kallie immensely and wanted to tell her not to worry, they’d get out of here and see what happened with their relationship going forward. Maybe he should tell her just to give her something to sustain her. But then there was the Brotherhood, and…

Damn them. They came here for their stupid mission and didn’t give a wet napkin about one missing initiate. Maybe some of them felt they were well rid of her. If Zelling was gone and Davenport went rogue they’d rid themselves of two thieves. 

The Brotherhood of Steel presented another problem even if his fantasy came true. Where did that leave him? Kallie served the Brotherhood and couldn’t be whisked away to live on a farm in the middle of nowhere nor would he ask her. You can’t force an outdoor cat to become an indoor cat. But you could let it choose. 

It was around 3 am when MacCready’s facade broke and he collapsed into a crying fit. He felt shame for he had not cried in a long time.

The last time was when he couldn’t keep up his strength for Duncan anymore. He and Victoria tended to Duncan’s every need but once when going out to get more water MacCready fell to his knees and sobbed, clutching the pump for dear life. He didn’t even hear Teddy approach.

“Robert.”  
The older man said in his gravelly voice in a tone he only ever used to talk to Duncan. He remembered when Teddy intimidated him. Even in his sixties Teddy was as lean and fierce as he had been in his twenties, with a full head of long silver hair to his belt and a six shooter at his side which he could draw and fire faster than anyone MacCready had ever seen. For all of that in Teddy there was quiet passion. He made Duncan a number of toys out of wood, inspired by paintings of things that had been erased by the bombs- animals, ships and cars. He loved his wife Victoria, and Lucy had been the closest thing they had to a daughter and after a while, they became the closest MacCready had to parents.

“I can’t stand it. I can’t stand seeing him suffer.” MacCready said, his tears falling to the dirt.

“You’ve been brave so long, you just gotta keep on being brave. Your boy needs you.”  
Teddy was beside him now. “Son. Ain’t no shame in giving in for a bit. Just don’t give up.”

MacCready had laughed. He laughed bitterly at the memory now too. Easy for Teddy to say. His wife was alive and life or fate or God or whatever hadn’t been so cruel to him. He had ignored the other thing Teddy cautioned him about- don't let this life make you too soft or too hard. 

His bitterness evaporated as Kallie snuggled into his arms.


	13. Chapter 13

They were both jolted awake by a sound like distant thunder. Or at least that what MacCready thought he heard in his half asleep state. The metal of the hatch creaked and groaned, torquing from without. Something blocked the slit of light.

"You still alive?"

MacCready squinted at the artificial light and sputtered before asking incredulously “Gifford?”

“Just wait right there, we’ll get you out.”

Kallie let out a happy cry and hugged MacCready. He frowned. “We’re both injured.”

“MacCready cracked a few bones and a ghoul scratched me up and bit me.” Kallie clarified.

Gifford ordered“Get as far back as you can and cover your ears.”

Kallie complied, and not caring much about his own ears he placed his hands on hers when she clapped them to her head. The saw cut neatly into the metal as easily as a knife through a can of cram. At Kallie’s insistence MacCready went first. It turned out his arm was fractured and a few of his ribs were bruised. When the elevator fell he landed on his side. Gifford clutched his arms as Kallie pushed him up and began gathering their things to pass up to them.  
“How did you find us?” Kallie asked.

Thrusting his thumbs under his suspenders Gifford puffed up with pride. “Well I said to Daisy I haven't seen you in a while and she said ‘well maybe he and his friend went and tried their luck at Med Tek’ and so I asked her what that was all about.”

Gifford paused looking up into the darkness ahead and touched the severed cable. “Look here.” He indicated the cable turning it for them to see. “Clean cut. This didn’t snap from age, somebody cut the power and sliced it. “

“Who would do such a thing?” Kallie pondered aloud.

MacCready gingerly tested his wounded arm and foot.“You said talking about the Gunners gave you an idea. What was it?”

“Well,” Kallie started “I thought maybe they got tangled up in this somehow. Call it a hunch. I was going to figure out how close they were operating near Boston Airport. Their tech guy, girl, whatever, calling themselves Shadow? Has to be a Raider.”

“Most Raiders can’t read, let alone write code. "Gifford pointed out. “Apart from the odd Rust Devil. Maybe this Shadow is a free agent. Anyway, here’s not a place for idle speculation. What say we head back to Goodneighbor, knock back a few drinks.”

MacCready’s jaw clenched. Gunners would know to cut the cable. Ransack the old facility for medical supplies, cut the cable and leave him and Kallie to die of thirst. Tie up some loose ends. How did they find them, anyway?

He had no more time to ponder as outside Med Tek they were surrounded by Raiders. He and Kallie were in no shape to fight. They both exchanged the same tired defeated look.

“Hands up where we can see ‘em.” Said the leader. Immediately Kallie gasped. 

“Davenport!” She took one step toward him but he shook his head.

“Uh-uh. You utter one more syllable and I blow your goddamn head off.”

So that was the infamous Davenport, the asshole who had started all this nonsense. He wasn’t really what MacCready was expecting. He expected- well, the soldier type, crew cut with scruff and scars but Davenport had greasy long hair, was slim as a reed and were it not for stubble he was borderline pretty. Davenport paused to light a bent cigarette. “You’re a pain in the ass to find.”

Gifford marched right up and pointed a thumb at himself. “I found ‘em, ya jerk. Where’s my caps?”

Scoffing, Davenport smoked idly for a few seconds letting the ghoul seethe a bit, then with his free hand made a gesture. “Somebody get the zombie his money.”

An old medkit box was thrust into Gifford's hands as MacCready and Kallie held up their arms to be patted down for weapons. MacCready glared at him.

“Why?” He asked simply.

“I'm a simple ghoul, you know that." Gifford said counting his caps. 

"You're simply a dead ghoul when I get my hands on you!" MacCready countered twisting in his captors' grip. 

"Now let's not be rude. Come on, let's go back to my camp." Davenport said "Bring them."

The barrel of a gun was dug into MacCready’s back. His body weary from being trapped in an elevator for who knew how long on top of his injuries and now he was being forced to march. All he wanted was to eat, bathe and sleep, not necessarily in that order then get the Prevent into Daisy’s hands and hug and celebrate his success with Kallie, hug her and pour out his thanks even though nothing could possibly be enough to repay his debt. 

"If you're going to kill us, just do it." Kallie grumbled. She dragged her feet more than MacCready even though hers didn’t have a gash in either of them. She caught his eye and concern flickered across her face.

"Kill you? No, nothing as callous as that. But come on let's go rest and get to know each other better."

The trek to Davenport's camp wasn't as long as it felt. All the while MacCready's anger boiled inside him and kept stealing glances at Kallie. She had that look, that gears turning look please Kallie, don't do anything stupid. 

"So you didn't cut the cables." Kallie deduced. 

Davenport turned a radiant smile to her. Really, he was extraordinary. Women must fall all over themselves for him. But that was somewhat diminished from the fact that he had them captive. 

"What? No. That was not me."

"Then who?"

"Gunners, I expect. If anything we have them as mutual enemies."

Kallie gave MacCready an odd look at this. The camp was a proper one with tents, nice ones, more in mind of a military installation akin to the Brotherhood of Steel or Gunners. MacCready and Kallie were ushered into the medical tent where a young man turned to them but more looked past them. He wore a blood stained apron over flannel and jeans and his long blond hair bleached tow by the sun was tied up in a haphazard knot. 

“Beau, you’re back!” He tugged down his surgical mask to reveal a grin. “I’d hug you but I’m covered in God knows what.”

Davenport smirked. “I brought you two new projects, Shannon. See if you can patch these two up.”

Shannon beamed at MacCready and Kallie. “New customers, aw hell. Well since I’m about to poke and prod you I should show some manners. Shannon Macguire, wasteland doctor and physician of Beau’s little shitshow.”

Beau laughed and pinched his cheek playfully. “You’re such a card. Patch these two up and try not to talk them to death.”

When he left MacCready wondered if he should go first in case this wanna be doctor was either a huge pervert or was more harmful than helpful. Maybe it was just self preservation, maybe he was being paranoid but something about the guy was...off. 

“Ladies first.” Shannon announced and frowned at Kallie’s face and arm. “That ghoul did a number on you.” He made no comment about MacCready’s less than stellar handiwork, setting about disinfecting the wounds and stitching the worst of it. She said nothing but gazed at MacCready even as Shannon tended to him next, marveling over how lucky he was the shard of metal he’d stepped on didn’t nick anything serious. 

The grim feeling that he’d escaped the frying pan and landed in the fire was abated for the moment but why had Davenport dragged them to his camp and bothered to have his doctor patch them up. If he bathed and fed them too MacCready would scream.

One much needed bath later MacCready found his normal clothes gone -and his hat, his favorite hat, damn it- and replaced with some pre war monstrosity consisting of khaki slacks and a sweater vest. He left the sweater vest opting only to put on the white shirt and rolling up the sleeves. He found himself seated beside Kallie, refusing eye contact and playing with the hem of a pale yellow dress covered in blue flowers that was too small. It only serve to emphasize her stocky physique. Her arms looked like with one good flex the fabric would tear.

Shannon joined Davenport shortly, and both men were clean and well turned out in similar pre war attire. They chatted and served their guests then themselves, falling into a banter that put MacCready to mind of any other couple. His stomach rejoiced at the sight of food but the current situation robbed him of all appetite. “Oh, did you slave over a hot stove just for us? Look chief, I don’t know what you’re on about with this ‘let’s sit down and have dinner like the folks in the pre war magazines’ nonsense but let’s cut to the chase.”

“Well that’s just bad manners.” Davenport sighed. He started to speak again but MacCready cut him off.

“I smell blackmail a mile away, stop trying to appeal to my better nature because I don’t have one. The Brotherhood thinks you’re good as gone. Same with us. All this is water under the bridge.”

He tried to be careful with his words. After all how much were Davenport and his crew privy to, did they know why he was at Med Tek or that Kallie was tracking him down to clear her name? “So what is the friendly act all about?”

Shannon glanced at his companion and kept drinking his water to have an excuse not to speak, so it seemed. He kept slaking his seemingly never ending thirst yet Davenport had a blank look in his otherwise scintillating hazel eyes. Other than Kallie’s amber eyes that looked golden in bright light, MacCready hadn’t encountered anyone with such a unique eye color. While the center of the rogue knight’s eyes were also pale gold they were surrounded by a shade of green he’d never seen in a person before. But there was nothing behind them, no warmth or anything.

MacCready had seen eyes like that above a gun far too many times to count.

Yet Davenport had no gun. He had an even more devastating weapon. “You and Miss Zelling are going to do something for me.” He leaned forward. “You want that medicine to get to DC, right?”

MacCready’s heart dropped. His fingers dug into his knees. Gifford must have ran his big fat mouth. Davenport leaned back.

“That’s what I thought. You see, Shannon and I represent certain interests in the Commonwealth. And we’d like it very much if the Brotherhood of Steel would pack up and leave but it doesn’t seem like they’re going to go peacefully.” He sighed as though the paramilitary organization were little more than guests who overstayed their welcome. “But they do have some interesting toys.” He snapped his fingers at Kallie who stared at him nonplussed. “Listen well because this concerns you. You’re going to help me get them. Maxson is going to just be vexed when we take away his favorite toy.”

“You think my life means that much to me?” Kallie asked evenly. “I won’t help you. End of discussion.”

Davenport leaned back in his chair. “Fine. But I gather you care about Mr. MacCready’s but by all means, use that knife you hid in the folds of your dress.”

Kallie pressed her mouth into a thin line. From the periphery of his vision MacCready saw it, the glint of the dinner knife. “People will get hurt.” She said. 

“The consequences of their actions. The Brotherhood wants war we’ll level the playing field.” He tapped a finger on the table to add weight to his words. “The second Maxson flew his extremely flammable compensating dirigible into the Commonwealth he painted a giant target on himself”

“Are you with the Institute?” Kallie asked, but the knife was still in her hand. MacCready reached for her but she wouldn’t surrender the knife.

Davenport laughed. “No, no. Well, technically yes but- my, how astute of you. I thought you’d assume I was Railroad like Shannon.”

Shannon huffed. “Just tell everyone, why don’t you.”

“Oh don’t be that way, sweetness.”

“So,” MacCready interposed. “What do you want us to do?”


	14. Chapter 14

MacCready woke up for the third time that night violently turning onto his side, then his stomach then the other side as though he could thrash his body into submission and make himself sleep. If only he hadn’t declined painkillers or sleep aids. Kallie went into a crying jag and Shannon coaxed her into taking a sleeping pill. She was in another tent and it was eerily silent. Somehow that scared him more than listening to her cry. He wished he could comfort her.

But they’d been split apart, although it was easy as walking to another tent to get to her though the armed men patrolling the rows discouraged that. Whatever Davenport was planning, he had no idea. So no cutting and running to tell the Brotherhood even if he didn’t care about the Prevent being destroyed as well as his only chance of saving Duncan. Staring at the tent flap as though he had X ray vision he tried to see any movement. That was when he heard it. A whimper. Lifting his head off the pillow he strained to hear. Scuffling. Pushing off the covers he sat up and almost hypnotically he found himself putting on his boots but not bothering with a shirt set out to investigate. 

Another voice came from the tent, a low voice, angry and male that blocked out a muffled scream.  
MacCready ripped open the tent flaps and just when he did Kallie’s assailant let out a yell that cut through the otherwise silent night. Forsaking all promises, forgetting his splinted arm, MacCready dug his fingers into the man’s back and pulled him away shouting “You son of a bitch!” at the top of his voice.

The assailant fell backward without much help and MacCready had to step aside. Sobbing with his hand over his mouth, the raider dragged himself away, blood pouring from between his fingers.

Flat on her back with hands shaking, fingers bent like claws with her pants tugged down to her knees and the torn panties, Kallie completed the picture of what had happened here. And what almost happened. Her mouth was bloody and MacCready went to her taking her hand. 

“Kallie!” His throat burned with unshed tears. 

Turning her head she spat out blood. It dawned on him that it wasn’t her blood. She sat up and fixed her clothes, rinsed her mouth with water and spat a few times into an empty can.

MacCready stared at her. He was suddenly aware of his shirtlessness and wished he’d put one on, cursing his laziness. “Do you want me to leave?”

She shook her head “Stay?”

“Are you okay?” he said frantically joining her on the bed. “Did he rape you?”

“He tried.”

By now the assailant lay on the floor of the tent gurgling as his life seeped out onto the floor. 

“Did you...bite him?”

“His tongue.” Kallie sat up and spoke louder for her attacker’s benefit. “If his blood doesn’t clot and he doesn’t get treatment he’ll die. It doesn’t feel good to be the helpless one, does it?” To MacCready she said “How’d you get here in time?”

“I couldn’t sleep and I thought I heard something. Good thing I was awake after all.”

She turned down the corner of her bed invitingly. Taking off his boots he joined her. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Not like it’s the first time.”

“Are you serious?”

“People will try to steal anything. Go to sleep.”

Kallie recovered quickly. MacCready admired her. She still snuggled up to him as though he were a favorite stuffed toy. 

Poor little kitten. Beaten and used. Lately he’d been looking at her with renewed eyes. Before like when he watched her sleep off the moonshine he felt something like pity for Kallie. Pity, and a little contempt. An ignorant wastelander dragged into the Brotherhood of Steel for food and shelter. Kallie had no interest in whatever moral fiber they tried to instill in her or questioned them. Though the Gunners had a strict rank structure too, part of why MacCready left. He hated being told when he could eat and sleep. They fancied themselves professionals but when it came to it they were glorified raiders. 

The Brotherhood was too, really. 

“RJ, “She said suddenly. “You should run while you can. The Prevent is in the clinic. Take it and get out of here.”

“Only if you come with me.” He laced his fingers with hers.

“No. No this time.” 

He stared at her and sat up. But he couldn't think of anything to say. Stubborn as can be. 

Pouring two glasses of water she handed him one. They drank in silence for a while. 

"After everything we've been through you expect me to abandon you?" He asked finally. 

"My duty is to the Brotherhood above all."  
Kallie said flatly. 

"The Brotherhood- to hell with 'em!" Slamming his glass on the table MacCready turned to Kallie. "If you go back now they'll kill you." Taking both her hands now the words spilled out "Come back to DC with me. My friends can help you lay low and you can start over. With me."

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

He had her hands in an iron grip now. “You know this self sacrificing thing doesn’t look as good as you think. What do they want you to do? Tell me!”

She said nothing. MacCready grabbed her shoulders now .”Kallie, tell me!”

Obstinate silence.

MacCready sighed deeply in exasperation. “I’m worn out with your stubbornness, Kal.” He stood up. Letting her go he stood angrily, putting his boots back on. “And now you don’t even trust me enough to help you. So much for partners. You know what, have fun with the Brotherhood. Have a nice life, Kallisto.”

He barely reached his cot before sleep hit him like a brahmin kick to to the head.

_

When MacCready came to, he felt groggy. No amount of cold water to the face could wake him up. What was going on? 

He tried to recount his memories of last night but it was shrouded in fog. The water tasted funny! She’d drugged him! But the blond guy had given her enough sleeping pills to knock out a deathclaw. She must have hidden them under her tongue or something. 

Dressing in his duster MacCready put on his hat. Kallie’s tent was empty. He looked all around expecting...well, a note of apology or something. A parting gift. He’d hoped…

But she was just gone.

“She left at sunrise.” Shannon said. “What are you doing in here, anyway?”

MacCready sighed. “The hell do you care.” he said dully. “Why are you here?”

“To clean up. Don’t worry. I’ve got your Prevent. Once I’m done in here I’ll hand it over and you can head home or wherever you’re headed.”

MacCready snorted. He didn’t know these assholes nor did experience allow him to trust to keep their word. “So that’s it, you’re just gonna let me walk out of here?” 

“That was the deal.”

Then MacCready felt something cold on the back of his neck.

“You know…” Davenport said in a low voice, his breath hot in MacCready’s ear. “The Gunners would probably not be too happy that you and your scrawny little bitch destroyed their base.”

“You can’t prove it.” MacCready said evenly. “They don’t have surveillance or anything like that. If they even did I guarantee it got destroyed too. So why don’t you just get your paws off me, you don’t have any dirt on me, greaseball.”

The gun moved. “Moxie. Not a quality you’ll find in ex Gunners.” Davenport moved to MacCready’s line of vision. 

“So do you think the Brotherhood will accept our terms?” Shannon was saying as he changed the linens on the bed where Kallie had lay. MacCready’s stomach felt like it was in a thousand knots. Where was she?

Davenport folded his arms. “I’m surprised she didn’t take you with her. Always was the self-sacrificing type.” And here he made a noise of disgust.

“Self sacrificing?” MacCready ventured. 

Something about Davenport’s predator eyes again. 

MacCready snapped.

With a speed that surprised even himself he had Shannon in a headlock and a knife to his throat.

“What the fuck!” Shannon cried in a panic. “Beau, help!”

“The Brotherhood is bound to know by now that Kallie is helping you. You know they branded her a traitor. Terms, my ass, you sent her to her death, didn’t you!” MacCready’s voice was low, dangerous. “Start talking or I swear I’ll open his throat.” To make good on this he jerked the other man’s head back by the hair. He felt disgusting especially when Shannon whimpered and said “Beau.” again so pitifully. 

But Davenport was unmoved. He lifted his hands and the gun fell out of it. He was still smiling. Did he have any concern for his lover? Instead Beau said “Do you really think the Brotherhood of Steel is going to bargain with synths?”

MacCready’s eyes were wide. “Synths?” he repeated in confusion.

Davenport spread his hands. “That’s what I said. If you must know, Kallie went ahead with a few toxins we’ve devised. I’ll skip the science but it will wipe out those bigots. Any synth that got in will realize who we are and they can join us. All the better, they’ll already know the Brotherhood’s tactics and have access to all their toys.”

He didn’t mean to, but MacCready’s hand shook so badly that the knife nicked Shannon’s neck. 

“You lied to me! You said we’d strike terms with them!” Shannon shouted. 

Davenport shrugged negligently. “I also told you I loved you!”

MacCready let Shannon go and no sooner did he Shannon socked Davenport hard across the jaw. He stood there, eyes blazing. “You’re going to kill all those people, you motherless slimeball!”

Davenport chuckled and touched the already swelling part of his jaw. “If I recall, pet, you’re motherless too. Unless you consider the machine that pieced you together your mother. Or maybe the pit of biomatter you were dipped in is the mother? Yeah that makes more sense.”

MacCready stood there unable to move as the two men argued. His mind was racing so badly that when a muffled voice came from somewhere in Davenport’s pocket it gave him a start. Holding up a finger Davenport took out the radio and pressed the button. Shannon stood there, lips skinned back from his teeth, hands balled into fists and breathing hard.

“Report.” Davenport ordered.

“All gas bombs have been deployed” The voice said excitedly. " Holy shit you can see the cloud from here, I- WAIT, NO!”

Static. Davenport’s brow furrowed. “Sawyer? Sawyer, report, god damn it.” He scowled and slapped the side of the comm unit.

Fear like nothing he had ever known seized MacCready. More than the deathclaw so close he could feel her breath. More than the thought that Kallie was breathing her last in a cloud of toxic fumes with her last thoughts of him and the comrades she’d just betrayed. 

For the flicker of an instant he thought he saw something move in the periphery of his vision. Like the ripples on the horizon on a blazing summer day. 

He shoved Shannon ahead. “RUN!”

Already upset, Shannon made a hasty retreat. MacCready followed suit through the maze of tents as the synths teleported into the camp. 

“Objective, capture units K3-29 and B1-44 alive.” One said, and spotting them turned its skeletal face toward him, its yellow eyes unblinking. 

“No…” Shannon breathed. “No! No! No NO NO NO!” He cried and fled, MacCready reaching for him in a futile effort to stop him. 

“Wait!” 

He heard the lasers firing.

“Go ahead and run, it makes the game more exciting.”

The voice was enough to rake chills down MacCready’s flesh. A man in black strolled by as casually as though he were shopping in Diamond City Market. When he saw MacCready his sharp features creased subtly in contempt.

“Where is B1-44?”

MacCready swallowed and pointed. “Went that way.”

The man sighed patiently. " Pity. I’d hoped to capture them together. Oh well. Makes it a more merry chase.”

Swallowing again MacCready ventured. “Were you in the tent a while ago?”

“I was. I arrived in time for the diversion.”

“The bombs?”

The synth’s frowned deepened .“Holy shit, as the parlance goes, do you ask a lot of questions, human. Yes, I was in the room while you were holding B1-44 hostage. I’m pleased you didn’t destroy Institute property.” He shooed MacCready away. “I’ll spare you for that now go before I get bored and kneecap you.”

MacCready didn’t need more encouragement. Then he remembered and stumbled into the medical tent. Snatching up the Prevent he ran, holding the syringe to his chest. He ran until his lungs burned.


	15. Chapter 15

“Hey MacCready.” Daisy said with a cheerful wave then she frowned. “If you don’t mind me saying you’re looking awful blue these days. Don’t worry, I made sure someone writes up a followup letter once that Prevent gets to your farm.”

MacCready smiled at her and Daisy went back to her display of goods trying in vain to make the dusty cans look nice. Arranging them, turning them so the label showed. She was sure she knew the cause of MacCready’s troubles. True he was worried about Duncan but the real reason was more complicated.

He thought for a few minutes trying to frame the question to seem less urgent or obvious. “I heard the Brotherhood of Steel ran into some trouble.”

Daisy chuckled. “ Last I heard some gas bombs went off. KL-E-0 reckons some butterfingers set them off on accident.”

“And this time it wasn’t me.” came a voice behind them. Daisy grinned. 

“Diane! Long time no see. Here to buy out my stock of .50 cal and snack cakes?”

The General of the Minutemen pushed up her tricorn with her thumb, brown eyes twinkling behind dirty eyeglasses. “As always. More importantly- RJ, I got a job for you.”

MacCready folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “Tempting, but I’m going back to DC soon.”

Diane’s eyebrows went up. “Does that mean you…”

“Yeah.” He smiled.

She sighed with relief. “Oh Mac, I’m so glad. I’m so sorry I never got time to-”

He waved a hand for her silence. “It’s alright. But I met someone who did.”

Diane grinned. “Well who, I’m gonna buy him a round or eight!”

“She’s…” MacCready floundered. “She’s left.”  
Gone would have been more accurate but he didn’t want to alarm Diane or Daisy.

“Left?” Daisy asked. “You mean that sweet little thing you traveled with for a while? Oh what was her name-once you get old like me you forget- I remember her face but her name escapes me- no don’t tell me uhh, Kallie?”

“Yeah, Kallie.” MacCready said as casually as he could but he still rubbed the back of his neck, pushed up his hat and scratched his head. He felt Diane’s eyes on him and when he turned to her she gave him that look. That look that said ‘we are going to talk about this later’. 

He listened to Diane and Daisy make more small talk before he found himself back in the VIP lounge. Diane removed her hat and set it in her lap. “So,” She began in her big sister mom voice. “Who is Kallie?”

Well Diane rubbed elbows with the Brotherhood. Maybe there was no harm in telling her. So MacCready told her everything.

“And the last thing I told her was ‘have a nice life’.” MacCready said, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together resting his forehead on the bridge they created. Diane placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“You had no idea.”

“No, I didn’t. And now she’s probably- she’s-” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“We don’t know that.” Diane thought for a moment. “ I might be able to get some info from a reliable source.” At his hopeful expression she added “That’s a ‘might’. If it’s sensitive info I might not be able to. I know Paladin Danse. He’s not so much a hard ass that he wouldn’t tell me. Just give me some time, okay?”

MacCready nodded dumbly. They both looked up to see Shannon in the doorway. He was dirty, miserable.

“MacCready?” He asked. Immediately MacCready was on his feet.

“What do you want?”

“I’m sorry. I just needed a familiar face.”

Diane calmly asked “Who are you?”

Shannon looked from her to MacCready.

“This is Diane- don’t worry, she’s a friend.”

“I came here for Dr. Amari but she wants to...she wants to...erase me. I can’t do that. I’m too scared.”

Now Diane rose from her seat. “It does sound scary. Far as I can tell you have three options-” raising a hand she held up a digit for each option. “One, you can stay here in Goodneighbor and like as not get a knife in the back unless you toughen up real fast. Two, you can try your luck getting to Acadia in Far Harbor, or three, you can work for me.”

Shannon’s confusion deepened. “Work for you?”

“Yes.” Putting her tricorn on with a flourish she grinned at him. “Diane McKagan, General of the Minutemen. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He managed a weak smile, glancing at MacCready who shrugged. “What would I need to do?”

“Well,” Diane began. “What can you do? Do you have any skills?”

Shannon wet his lip. “I learned medicine. I can dig bullets out, set bones, and I stitch nicely.”

“A sawbones, eh? Well can never have too many doctors. Tell you what.” She turned to Shannon almost excitedly. “Come with me. We’ll head to the Castle and get you set up. Then we’ll deploy you where you’re needed.”

Shannon nodded, then hesitated “But the Castle, that’s near the airport. Won’t the Brotherhood-”

“Don’t worry about them. “

But MacCready didn’t hear the rest of the laughing words. “Hey Diane, if you’re going to Diamond City can you do me a quick favor? Just the next time you go.”

Diane’s grin dimmed at his expression. “Sure.”

Taking her hand he placed a slip of paper in it. “Give Travis this. Make sure he plays it often. If Kallie is still out there, maybe she’ll hear it. If not...I don’t want anyone to forget her.”

Diane’s eyes welled with tears and the paper crinkled in her hand. “Oh RJ, that is the sweetest most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, read about or seen on TV. Of course I’ll do it!”

MacCready managed a smile for her but his throat ached too much to say anything.

-

“Alright Boston I have a little something special for you.” Travis ‘Lonely’ Miles leaned back in his chair, mic in hand. “So we’re gonna try something called a dedication. For our first ever song dedication this song goes out from RJ MacCready to Kall-....is-to Zelling. This is Angel by Aerosmith.”

-

The street lights were just coming on as MacCready set out, sniper rifle across his shoulders. Another night of guard duty another handful of caps. It was steady work, kind of boring but he got three square meals a day, a discount on booze and didn't have to sleep with one eye open. 

He heard the muffled radio from a house. Pausing by the window he listened and sighed.

Like he did every night, MacCready sat up in the sniper nest chain smoking and thinking. Wild dogs stirred in the underbrush but nothing the turrets couldn’t handle. Plus everyone was tired of dog steaks.

The first red streaks of daylight were his cue to leave. Maybe he’d ask for a day shift. It was bound to be more exciting.


	16. Chapter 16

The landscape didn’t seem to pass by much faster than if he was on foot but MacCready was grateful to take a load off for the remaining leg of his trip. His arrival would be a surprise and though tired from the road once his farm came into view the sight energized him.

It was already midmorning, the autumnal chill visible in wisps of fog and the mist from the pack brahmin’s breaths. Rapping his knuckles on the side of the wagon he said “I’ll walk from here. Brahmin are liable to stumble.”

The wagon halted and gathering his things MacCready slid off his seat, legs aching. The walk from the path to his home wasn’t far but seemed like miles. Just as well. He could use a stretch. 

Bidding the caravaners farewell he started toward home with a light heart that sank with every step. Diane made good on her promise to help him but asking got her nowhere. Maybe Zelling was arrested or exiled. He couldn’t think of the other alternative. 

Wonder if she heard my song.

Two figures appeared on the porch. Victoria cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted “RJ!”

Raising a hand high MacCready called back “Hey! Victoria!”

Teddy was beside her wiping his hands on a rag. He turned back toward the house but when he looked back he and Victoria stumbled apart to let a small figure bound down the steps. Then MacCready heard the sweetest sound in the world.

“Daddy!”

Still in his pajamas Duncan raced toward his father and dropping his pack and letting his rifle slide to the dirt MacCready held out his arms as the boy collided with him, throwing his arms around his neck. MacCready held Duncan so tightly the boy grunted. For a while he couldn’t speak and his throat burned. He remembered what Teddy had said and let the joy trickle down his cheeks, kissing Duncan on his forehead.

MacCready opened his eyes to see Teddy picking up his things so he could carry Duncan into the house. He was lighter, MacCready noticed but as they settled in Duncan set right back to his breakfast at Victoria’s urging. She made MacCready a plate too and though he was hungry and grateful he didn’t want to do anything that could take his eyes off Duncan.

They were all quiet except for Duncan’s thousand questions, humming, slurping, open mouth crunching and Victoria’s admonishment. Everything was back to normal. Tomorrow Teddy and Victoria would return home and leave MacCready to his old routine. They could catch up another time.

-

The autumn turned bitter cold and the first breath of winter coated the wasteland in glittering white.  
One afternoon as MacCready was reading Duncan to sleep a knock came at the door. But who could it be in this weather? All of his neighbors had a distinctive knock. His eyes leapt to the gun rack and back. Duncan was safe in his room. Gunners come to collect? No he was being paranoid now.

“H-hello? Is anyone home?”

MacCready yanked open the door. Standing on his porch, fist raised to knock Zelling blinked at him in surprise. Stepping out onto the porch MacCready closed the door behind him and stared at her. She had on an enormous hooded sweatshirt with bold black white and purple stripes, so large her hands didn’t show when they were at her sides as they were now.

“Hey, RJ.” She said uneasily. “I have a couple days furlough, I didn’t want them, I said give them to someone else because I didn’t have the courage to talk to you…” She trailed off, expecting him to speak. But MacCready just stared. “Paladin Danse said I owed you an apology and I got transferred back to the Citadel because there’s some stuff I’m working on, top secret type stuff they want my expertise on there so…” 

Again Zelling stopped, waiting for MacCready to speak. He did not. Desperate to fill the silence she said “So is your son okay? I wanted to check on him but if you want me to leave-”

MacCready hugged her. After a moment he realized she was crying and he held her tighter. 

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed. “I’m sorry. I wanted to protect you.”

“What the hell happened? I know about the gas, Davenport wasn’t exactly quiet. Wonder what happened to him. “ Then MacCready remembered something else “Why did you drug me?”

Wiping her face on her sleeve Kallie smiled faintly “I knew you’d do something stupid so I had to put you out of commission somehow. I tongued those tranquilizers Shannon gave me. When I realized you’d get in the way I had to do something.”

Hiding pills under your tongue, classic trick. She did love her Mistress of Mystery and Silver Shroud comics. “You’re too clever for your own good, you know that?” He said, lightly pinching her chin. “You’re also cold as an icicle sometimes. But...thanks. I would have been rash, you’re right.”

“As for the bombs they went off before I even arrived. They weren’t well made. I saw to that. I planned on disposing of them safely but I must have miscalculated.” Kallie blinked at him. “Why are you laughing?”

MacCready laughed out of mirth, relief, amusement. She joined him shortly though she probably didn’t understand the humor. “Did you know the Institute showed up? All you had to do was wait.”

“The Institute?” Kallie looked down. She also just now realized they were standing with their arms around each other for she blushed. 

"They showed up and blew the place to hell. I guess Davenport got away."

Kallie shook her head. "No, sir. I killed him."

"For the Brotherhood?"

"No. For me." Her eyes downcast, she said "I missed you." 

He sighed deeply "I missed you, too."Gesturing to the door he said "Duncan and I were just settling for a nap. Can you stay a bit?" 

Drying her eyes Kallie nodded briefly. "I'd like that."

_

Duncan padded out of his room. Kallie turned to smile at him "Hi."

"Hi." Duncan said, pausing in the doorway wary of a stranger but curiosity plain in his big blue eyes.

"Hey buddy, you know when you were sick and Daddy had to go away?" Said his father. "This is the lady who helped get your medicine." 

Seeing the stranger had his father's approval Duncan climbed up onto the couch beside her. She was a short lady even to his four year old mind. Most grown ups were really tall. 

"My jammies have stripes." Duncan pointed at her sweater.

"I like stripes!" Zelling said, glancing to MacCready's approving gaze. 

"Do you have a gun?" 

"Yes."

"A big gun?"

"Yes." Zelling lowered her brows. "Big so I can kill deathclaws!" 

MacCready shook his head as his son began his charming schtick, pouring coffee for himself and Kallie. 

“Can I see your gun?”

“If your dad says it’s okay.”

“I want a gun.”

“When you’re ten I’ll teach you to shoot.” MacCready told him as he had a dozen times. “So let me get this straight. Maxson promoted you after all that?”

Sipping her coffee Kallie nodded. “Oh he reamed me good. He said ‘You tell lies to my face, sell our secrets, endanger our operations-’ then he paused and I was scared out of my wits! But he sort of like, softened and said ‘and you saved us all.’ I think he was more confused if anything." MacCready stared at her nonplussed. “Yeah that’s the face he made. The brass had a long talk. Oh!” She remembered something. “Proctor Quinlan found my Aerosmith tape and played it over the Prydwen speakers! The looks on everyone’s faces!” 

Both of them burst into laughter. “Oh no!” MacCready lamented. “Were they all furious?”

“Not at all! Quinlan already wanted to lock me up but Maxson told him no, but he can make him a copy of that tape.” Kallie grinned “Everyone else wanted one too. I bet he’s still making copies.” A comfortable lull fell between then then she said “I wasn’t...not punished. I’m going to have to work harder for that promotion now.”

Her work would not take her to the Citadel often and she wasn’t required to live on base at least not until a few things were squared away. Kallie wasn’t one to be cooped up. She’d be much happier assisting in trading for the Brotherhood but should time permit she’d visit MacCready.

They talked, laughed and actually succeeded in putting Duncan to sleep in spite of the excitement. Victoria arrived later that afternoon, greeted Kallie like an old friend and though wary at first Kallie soon fell into that instant bonding women did, helping around the kitchen. Teddy on the other hand was harder to win over. 

Victoria and MacCready held their breaths when Kallie, hoping to help Teddy repair a porch step touched his tools. Instead the old man thanked her for her assistance. They fell to talking about machines and maintenance and Kallie even said that one day when the weather permitted she’d repair their roof. Kallie was a godsend, Victoria declared to the consternation of her husband since he could repair the roof and would surely not fall and break his neck like she so often claimed. 

Things fell into a natural rhythm. Duncan adored 'Miss Kallie'. Victoria found the entire phenomenon curious. Duncan was a shy child but he graciously permitted Kallie to tie his little shoes, help him with his jacket and so on.  
Then he found them playing pretend on the porch with Kallie carrying Duncan on her back pretending to be a vertibird gunning down super mutants. The game ended when it was time to wash for dinner, complete with being struck by a missile and an absolutely spectacular crash by Kallie, complete with sound effects and a dramatic twirl before a careful fall to the ground. 

“Kallie, would you like to stay for dinner?” MacCready asked.

From inside the house he heard Teddy call “Can she stay forever?”

She smiled, nodding.

They went back into the house, each holding one of Duncan’s hands.

The End~


End file.
